Adversary
by Triad
Summary: CTFF7. It's a crossover. It doesn't suck. Please RR.
1. Fool In The Rain

ADVERSARY  
  
Guardia Castle, 1004 A.D.  
  
The drops of rain fell like angels from the heavens, as their wings gently brushed against the window,  
  
leaving their feathery streams of water astray. His face was fixed by the glass, and had been for quite a time now, but he took no notice. He was deep in thought, his mind growing ever darker in this chamber devoid of life all but himself. At last he broke through the emotional stone that encased his body and left him bound staring into void. He threw himself upon the couch. A deep sigh escaped his lungs, and he hid his face from no one in particular.  
  
When she tells me she loves me, what am I supposed to say? I want to say that I do as well...I do more than anything. But how can I? She doesn't accept me for who I am...I'm not meant for this kind of life. This...childish fantasy has grown old and died within me. I'm coming to grips on what really is important to me...  
  
The door opened, and the too-familiar sound of her footsteps penetrated his silence.  
  
"Crono? Are you in there, honey?" The artificial sweetener in her words made his stomach turn. He pretended to sleep, hoping that she would leave him in peace. But instead..  
  
"Ahh! What the hell!?" His torso jerked upward as she jumped on him, giggling. He put a hand to his diaphragm, trying to ease the pain.  
  
"Wake up silly! You've been in here all day. I shoulda known you'd fall asleep. Now c'mon downstairs. Father is taking us to look for furnishings for our new wing of the castle. Oh isn't it wonderful Crono? Soon we'll get married and have our own section of the castle for ourselves!" He rolled his eyes and slammed his head against a cushion.  
  
I don't want a castle...I don't want to buy furnishings...I don't want to be a prince...and...I don't want...  
  
He commanded his thoughts to stop. He didn't want to even think like that. Turning over, he brought a smile to his tired face.  
  
"Okay...I'll be right down..." She kissed him on the cheek and bounced out of the room. Once again he slammed his head against the cushion. "Ugh...why do I put up with this...day in and day out...all these damned royal customs and...her father..." He rolled over onto the cold, stone floor. "...every day makes some screwed-up comment about me, and how I don't fit in...and how I dress like a ruffian...shit, Crono. Why do you take it?" He walked to the window again. "There's gotta be someone in this life of mine for me...someone who likes me for what I am...not what they want me to be..." he mumbled with a sigh. "Yet somehow I doubt she's downstairs with her father..."  
  
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"Yeah, so that was when we went to this building full of hundred-year-old chairs and met the Duke of Masaloft...can you believe that?" Crono said as he lay on his back and tossed the little rubber ball up in the air, catching it and tossing it back up again.  
  
"What, that you met the illict governor of a third world country?" mused Lucca, over her papers. She was twenty-one years of age, as was Crono, and her hair had grown long, shining with a purple luster. She was indeed very beautiful, in a natural sort of way, and her smaller, thinner glasses actually complimented her looks.  
  
"No, that they actually have buildings full of hundred-year-old furniture. I mean, who really cares?" He turned his face towards her, still keeping the ball going.  
  
"Well, to each his own I guess." She said, and shortly followed with "Will you stop that! Thats not a toy!" He sat up and smirked, and in jerky, robotic motions, he set the ball on her dresser and retracted his arm. "Besides," she started, "don't you have lunch with Marle and her dad in a few minutes? You should get goin'." He was silent for a moment.  
  
"I...don't think I'm gonna go."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't wanna go. They made me so uncomfortable yesterday...more than usual...I don't think I'm ever going back to that place again."  
  
"Aww...but the Masaloft people will be so sad!" She teased.  
  
"Yeah, well, when someone asks me what medium I use in my Martial Arts...I get a little irritated." He grumbled. She couldn't help but laugh at this.  
  
"No way...I refuse to believe anyone, even royalty, could be that stupid." Crono chuckled, but then refrained and looked sullen again. She moved over to him. "Whats wrong? I just meant it as a joke...I wasn't..."  
  
"No, its not you. Well...it is you, kinda. Er, what I'm sayin' is..." He stammered, trying to clear his mind.  
  
"Spit it out already!" She slapped him on the back, affectionately. He emitted a noise that was something of a sad cross between a laugh and a choke. He swallowed hard and summoned his voice.  
  
"I...I really miss hanging with you like this...like when we were kids...we were inseperable, remember? Everyone was always making fun of us, teasing us, saying 'oooh, Crono and Lucca are in loooooooove.' But we never let it get between us...nothing could ever pull us apart. But...its like now, I hardly see you anymore...I like have to run away from my girlfriend to hang out with you nowadays...sometimes life really sucks." His eyes became a little foggy, and he turned away.  
  
"Ahh, I undersand you...I know what its like to have a demanding schedule. You can't always throw everything away for your friends, ya know." She tried to pass it off, but he remained serious.  
  
"But I don't think you understand what I'm trying to say..."  
  
"Well, what are you trying to say then?" He looked away again.  
  
"This hurts so bad...but Lucca...I don't think I love her anymore" His words brought an agonizing period of silence, neither one of them sure of what to say. "I've tried to avoid it, but you can only play along for so much time before you start to realize how unhappy you are, you know? It's just not what I thought it was, you know?" Lucca smiled sadly. He always said "you know" whenever he was upset about something. She took a good long look at him, studying his movements she'd come to know so well.  
  
The way he bit the inside of his lip, trying to stop his face from twisting. The way his jaw was clenched as an output of the building tension within him. The way his hands wrung themselves out, and he kept blinking his eyes to stop anything from coming out of them. It was all part of the way he tried to keep himself composed, like the Kensai warrior he was. However, when his knees started to bounce up and down, she knew he was having a very tough time. His lower lip inverted into his mouth, and he closed his eyes, his body quivering. She knew she needed to do something, or he'd run from her house and get into trouble, like he always did when he was upset and alone, so she did the only thing she could. She slipped her arms under his, and pulled him closer. To her surprise, he welcomed her in, and put his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in them.  
  
She felt his tears sink into the fabric of her white shirt, and his breath came in short gasps as his body shook. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and just held him, a wounded child, in her arms. He let go of his self control completely and just sobbed into her shoulder, not caring the slightest about how much of a fool he must've seemed to her. She pulled back a little bit, allowing him to look up at her. He looked hurt and confused, angry and forlorn. A million emotions were forged into his face, and she said to him with a smile, "Aw, I love ya, kid." He smiled at her, and his face lightened a little. He knew she meant it.  
  
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She watched from across the room as he lay wrapped in her blankets on the bed. She'd given up on sleeping, as daylight was due in a few hours, and so she sat, watching his eyes flutter and listening to him breathe. The slow patterns of inhaling and exhaling made her drowsy, but she had determined herself to stay awake tonight, and she wasn't one to give up on self-commitments, either.  
  
She hadn't realized she'd dozed off until a cold chill blew through her open window, scattering papers everywhere.  
  
"Mmph? Wha? Ah, damn..." She sat up quickly, and soon acknowledged the sharp cramp in her neck from sleeping in a hard, wooden chair. Standing up, she was able to strech it out enough for her to be able to do what she needed to do. Her first order of business was to get the papers together, which wasn't terribly difficult to accomplish, except for the ones that landed on a sleeping Crono. She plucked them off of his body, and piled them all together as she placed them in a drawer of her desk. Then she threw her arms up to the windowframe, and pulled it down gently.  
  
Something made her stop.  
  
Her nose found a scent among the aroma of the outside world, a strangely familiar one, that seemed quite out of place. It was a clean, icy smell, that she knew she'd noticed many times before, and she knew where, too.  
  
She hurried downstairs, being careful not to wake her parents. She slipped out her front door, and down the steps, around the front of the house to the side where her window was. It was just before dawn, the sky was beginning to lighten slightly, just enough for her to make out his form standing off to the side of her front yard. His back was turned to her, his cape rippling in the pre-daybreak winds, and the icy chill grew stronger as she approached him.  
  
"Hello, Lucca." He said to her, still staring off into space.  
  
"Hey, Magus" she repiled, waiting for him to turn around. He didn't. "Erm, is there something you wanted to say to me?" she threw the question into the wind.  
  
He was silent.  
  
"Are you okay?" She tried. No response. "Magus, what's going on? Why are you here?" He took in a slow, deep breath.  
  
"Can you feel that?" He murmured. What was he talking about? The breeze? The dew on the grass? The new coat of paint on the house?  
  
"Feel what?" She asked him uneasily. Although Lucca and he had been friends for some years now, he still could be somewhat frightening at times.  
  
"The Black Wind...it screams in rage...I can't ignore it, even for a short while..." Her spine shivered. The way he looked at her and stated it like such a fact made her feel cold and weak inside. Her knees started to give, but she forced herself to stay standing.  
  
"What does it want?" She asked, wearily. He fell silent again as his eyes closed slowly and his head lowered slightly. "Magus, whats wrong?" She asked. Concerned, she walked closer to him, and without a word, his cloaked arms enveloped her. Surprisingly, his body was warm, and his cape shielded her from the cold breeze. It was then that she realized how tired she was, as her eyelids began to sink, and she clung to him, slipping gradually into unconsciousness.  
  
"It's been a long time." He whispered.  
  
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"Hmmph...?" Lucca mumbled as Crono tapped her for the fifth time. He rolled his green eyes and patted her face a few times.  
  
"C'mon Lucca, get up. Do you know how late it is?"  
  
"No, and I don't particularly care, either." She grunted, slapping his hand away. "Okay, okay. I'm awake. Happy?" She stretched her neck and arms.  
  
"Not that I mean to impose, but I smell some very nice goings on in the kitchen, and I think I'll just head on down there to investigate." He said, grinning as he started out the door. He stopped and pointed his finger towards her. "Wow, hey, that's some fancy blanket you have there. Where'd you get it?" He asked, amused. She looked down and was shocked when she saw that Magus' cloak had been laid across her. The thought of their short rendezvous brought a smile to her lips.  
  
"A friend."  
  
* * *  
  
"Thanks a lot guys! Later, Lucca!" Crono yelled over his shoulder, waving as he left their house. Lucca watched from the door as he turned his back, and began his journey home. She saw his face fall meloncholy once again, his disposition darkening as he pulled his jacket together tightly and tucked his head down slightly, trudging onward.  
  
After he'd left her field of vision, she sighed and slowly closed the door. To her surprise, her father was sitting in the chair behind her. His eyes seemed to look deep into her soul, and his face was kind, yet concerned. "You really like him, don't you?" Taban speculated.  
  
"Oh, Dad! Please don't start this again..." She said, exasperated.  
  
"I'm sorry Lucca, you just...I dunno. You're such a pretty girl. It's a shame you don't have anyone to..." He started.  
  
"Dad! Please!!" She almost screamed at him. She whirled around and raced up the stairs, while Taban hung his head in shame.  
  
* * *  
  
She slammed the door to her room, and threw herself upon the bed, crying softly. For quite some time she remained sedentary, her emotions pouring out her eyes. When at last she felt she could cry no more, she rolled over on her back, staring up at her cieling. Why had she been crying? She chuckled slightly at the fact that she honestly could not remember what had made her so sad. Perhaps it was the draining effect that seeing Crono in his darkest moments had on her, or perhaps it was a release of the stress she'd been under lately. She took a refreshing breath of air, and rolled over onto the floor.  
  
"Agh! What the hell is this?" Something very hard jabbed up into her back as she fell. She jolted upward, and turned her neck to find that she'd landed on Crono's katana. She rolled her eyes at the huge infraction in his warrior code he'd just committed by leaving his sword unattended, and she got to her feet, lifting the blade as she left the room with it.  
  
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"If I do encounter my enemy, I will not submit to him."  
  
His fluid motions loosened his muscles, and he fixated his eyes upon the trunk of the Great Oak with the intensity of an eagle.  
  
"I will stand, a fortress, in his path."  
  
He drew his arms downward, slowly, and brought his elbows to his sides in chun-bi.  
  
"Should he continue to persist, I will destroy him with honor."  
  
His left hand rose to guard his face, while his right hand barricaded his abdomen.  
  
"For being defeatable lies within him."  
  
His knees bent slightly, eyes narrowed.  
  
"Yet being undefeatable lies within me."  
  
His fists drilled into the bark of the tree, splintering it with every strike. Continuously he persisted, boring a gaping hole in the Oak. The blows grew harder, and more intense did Crono's anger become, that his concentration became clouded, and he struck less and less with the correct surfaces of his hand. Eventually, the pain became too much for him to bear, as he paused his attack, looking at his torn hands. The though of him yeilding in pain, while his enemy still stood strong drove him into a wild frenzy. He stepped back, glared at the tree, and hurled himself forward, as he sprang into the air, knees chambered. Just as he was about to release his striking leg, he heard a voice behind him.  
  
"Crono!" It yelled in shock. He twisted his head around in mid-flight, throwing himself completely off balance. It wasn't long before his body collided with the tree in a very painful way. A huge section of flesh was raked from his shirtless chest, and scrapes ran up his bare arms. With a dull thud, he hit the ground, headfirst.  
  
In a matter of minutes, Crono opened his eyes and groaned. Before his face, he saw the familiar, yet hazy purple hair of his best friend above him.  
  
"Are you okay?" Lucca inquired, caringly. "You almost killed yourself there." She added with a soft laugh.  
  
"I'm okay...my head hurts, and I...arggh!! Dammit! What is that?" He felt a sharp sting burn his chest. Lucca pushed his shoulders back to the ground.  
  
"Just hold still. I have to clean your wounds before they can be properly healed." He started to object, but felt the sting of her astringent once again, and his complaints ceased. The burning sensation eventually subsided, and his cuts began to feel slightly numb and cool. He sighed, exasperated.  
  
"Man, this really sucks. Ouch!" He grumbled. She reached into her pocket and produced a small crystal bottle. Her hands popped off the cap, and she began to rub the liquid into Crono's wounds. Within seconds, he breathed a huge sigh of relief as his injuries began to mend.  
  
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She tapped her painted nails against the marble table as she gazed out her bedroom window. It'd been almost two day's since she'd last seen him, and she wasn't sure whether to be worried or angry. She'd half-suspected that he may have been up to something, but couldn't really bring herself to actually believe it.  
  
The lace curtains brushing into her face brought her out of her daydream, and back into reality. She gave a brief glance at the clock. It was almost five-thirty. She huffed in frustration and started out of her room, stomped down the spiral staircase, and ran through the front gates, ignoring the guards' greetings and farewells.  
  
* * *  
  
Nadia carefully followed the path through Guardia Forest, seeking the exit that led to Truce village. The forest had been cleared of monsters, so her journey was a little less tense. Not very long before the way out of the wood, she thought she'd heard something. Spinning on her heel, she froze, hoping whatever it was would sound again. Sure enough, it did. It was a human voice...no...two voices. A male and a female, both strikingly familiar. She silently crept through the thicket until she could see who it was. Her hand brushed away a branch, and she poked her head through the opening in the bushes. Her blue eyes widened and her small mouth dropped open at the sight before her.  
  
Crono was lying on the ground, shirtless, with Lucca kneeling on his legs. She was rubbing his chest, making him smile weakly.  
  
"Ahh...yea...that feels so good...keep going." He whispered to her. She smiled back. "I guess this kinda makes up for it." Lucca raised an eybrow.  
  
"Makes up for what?" She asked, defensively. He laughed.  
  
"Oh, sure, you just happened to stroll right by at that mo...ouch!" Her hand whipped out and smacked Crono on the nose, lightly, yet quickly. His face reddened, he hated that.  
  
"Shaddup." She said, flatly, and she continued to massage the liquid into his now-almost-invisible wounds. Suddenly a shuffling was heard in the bushes, and it grew louder, yet it seemed to keep going deeper into the thicket as it moved. Crono and Lucca jumped to their feet, ready to investigate. Whatever it was, was tearing through the bushes at a great speed. Lucca ran straight through where she though it had gone, while Crono sprang into a tree, and proceeded to search from above. Surely enough, he found his girlfriend, leaves and short branches protruding from her dress, running with a tearstreaked face back toward the castle exit. After the confusion cleared, Crono was left with one predominant thought.  
  
Oh, shit....  
  
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"Marle! Wait! Come back, I, I can explain!" Crono yelled, racing after her. She already had gained a huge distance and was now up the stairs to the castle entrance, and through the door. Running as fast as he could, he bolted up the stairs, and through the door seconds after her. He slowed to a halt as she stumbled into the throne room, and collapsed at her father's feet, sobbing. King Guardia looked down at his forlorn daughter, and then up at her boyfriend, noting his lack of proper attire. His eyebrows lowered.  
  
"Just what were you trying to do to her?" Guardia demanded of him. Crono opened his mouth to speak, but was drowned out by the princess' bawling.  
  
"It's (hic) not what he was trying to do to me, daddy! I caught him and his little four-eyed friend in the act!" She screamed. Guardia glared at Crono.  
  
"Is this true?"  
  
"No! It's not! It's all a misunderstanding!" Crono pleaded.  
  
"He's a liar! Don't listen to him daddy!" She got to her feet and roared at Crono. For a moment, the king looked confused, unsure of what to do. He wanted to believe his daughter, but Crono did seem like he was telling the truth. "Daddy! I want him and Lucca locked up! I don't care what anyone says! They made a mockery of me, you, and your kingdom! You can't let them get away with it!" Guardia, frowned, but ordered.  
  
"Very well, guards, seize him and locate his friend. The scientist girl, Lucca." Crono's mouth dropped in shock as the guards encircled him. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. They were going to sieze him and Lucca?  
  
"Like hell you will!" Crono taunted as he sprang forward, crashing into the throne, King Guardia and all. The chair was knocked flat on its back, and Crono rolled into position. His left arm wrapped itself around the King's neck, while his other arm pulled himself and the monarch up from the floor. "Alright kids, let's get down to business. Either you let me out of here, or I break this guy's neck right here and now." Marle glared at him, drawing her bow.  
  
"You wouldn't dare." She hissed. He smirked and tightened his grip, making Guardia choke sharply as he backed toward the stairwell, keeping the king in front of him. "Stop! Stop right now or I'll shoot you!" He laughed, mockingly at her.  
  
"Go ahead and plug his fat ass full of arrows. You'll kill him a few times over before you even graze me! Especially with your aim." He added, trying to goad her. She fell right into his trap. Her face bursting with fury, she dropped her bow, and lunged for her former lover.  
  
"I'll kill you!! You son of a bitch! I'll rip your throat out!" Throwing the gasping king to the floor, Crono braced himself for the princess' impact. She hit him, tearing at his face and neck, like a wild beast. He rolled backwards, his legs creating a safe distace between them. For a moment, her attacks paused, as she remembered that this was someone, that up until the past few minutes, she'd loved...or so she thought. Her face hardened again, and she drew back her left fist, hurling it toward his face. In a flash, he siezed her wrist, and jerked it to the right, pulling her upwards, until she rolled over onto her stomach, where he grabbed her blonde ponytail, and held her by it. "You bastard!! Let GO of me!!" She sceamed, tears of rage flooding down her face as he continued to drag her and her father toward the stairwell.  
  
The guards pursued at a slow pace, not sure what Crono would do if the charged. They knew of the mysterious arts of fighting he used, and they also knew that he was capable of far more destruction then he seemed to be. This slow ritual of his retreat and their slight advance continued until Crono was well up the stairwell, dragging a sobbing princess and an exhausted king in front of him. Guardia would periodically shout curses and orders for assistance to his guards, but they remained steady, not sure of what to do. Crono waited until the King shouted again, making his knights cringe in shame for being so unattentive, and he cast both the princess and her father down the stairwell at the same time. In a flash he raced up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He shoved past pages and maids, and he slid under and through the legs of a table to avoid the blade of the Knight Captain, who was currently upstairs in the hall. At last, his mad dash ended in the King's chamber, where the only ways out were the window, which led to a certainly lethal drop, and the door, which was know swarming with furious guards. The king and princess accompanied them as well.  
  
"Alright," Guardia panted, "guards, you are to kill him! Kill him and burn his remains!!" The mob lurched forward as Crono backed up to the window. He gave a brief glance out the window. It was a straight drop down, with neither handhold nor foothold to support him. He turned back to the guards, who were almost upon him. With no weapon to defend himself from the mob, he snatched up a wooden chair, and brought it to his defense, bringing a laugh from the assailants.  
  
"Come on Crono!" a guard teased, stepping up into his face, "let's see your fancy trick with the chair!" He brought his sword to chest-height, still laughing at Crono's choice of weaponry. Crono apparently didn't think it was funny, and he rammed a leg of the chair up into the knight's nose, snapping his head back. The crowd paused for a moment, shocked at this bold gesture. Crono spun around, facing the window, and smashed the rest of the chair through it, splintering wood and glass as it fell. He knew he had no time to waste, and with a leap, he set his feet upon the windowsill, reversed his body, and sprang up as high as his supple form could go, clawing his fingers into the stone of the tower's spire. Without much difficulty, the Kensai pulled himself up, and sat down on the surface of the spire, trying to clear his thoughts. He heard the knights below, and knew that it would take quite a while for them to reach him, giving him ample time to get away. He sighed and rested his head in his hands, feeling the little raindrops begin to cascade down from the darkening sky. A bolt of lightning seared through the clouds, bringing a merciless roar that shook the land.  
  
This is not what I meant...not at all what I meant...I don't hate her...I just...don't love her...I can't believe I hurt her...I always let my anger get the best of me...but this world has been so cruel to me...sometimes I wish it would all just burn itself down, and start everything over again...'cause it sure fucked up this time...  
  
THE END  
  
part one 


	2. The Reunion

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar Beach, 04 N.C.E. (New Common Era)  
  
The sand welcomed her bare feet as it swept around them, molding itself to their shape as she set them down. The ocean breeze blew her hair back, and she closed her eyes and smiled as the last rays of a setting sun touched her face, marking the end of another day of seemingly endless bliss. It had taken her years to realize it, but her life was strictly uphill from here. The war was over, she'd overseen the beginning of the reconstruction of civilization, and now, people were actually starting to become happy once again. It was a time that four years ago on this very day, she never thought would come.  
  
She pushed her body off of the rock, and proceeded to walk up the beach, brushing the sand off the back of her shirt as she went. In the distance, she could make out the vauge shape of her car sitting up on the hill where she'd left it that afternoon. It looked incredible with the orange rays hitting it at such an angle, a silver bullet resting in the infinite space above the beach. Or so it seemed, until she produced her key and inserted it into the door lock. It gave its usual accepting "click", and with a smooth gliding noise, it slid open, resting parallel to the hood of the vehicle. She stepped inside the driver's side door, and dropped down into the warm leather seat. Her smooth, yet strong fingers gripped the rubber- insulated steering wheel, as she took a moment to enjoy the sheer thrill she felt before every drive. She loved this car, and the world knew it.  
  
* * *  
  
The car hummed quietly as she maneuvered it into the parking space at the side of the street. With a jerk she locked the brakes, and was up on the pavement, heading toward her destination. The black tinted glass door reflected her full body as she walked over to open them, fixing the section of hair that had blown into her face. Immediately upon her entrance of the building, she was hit with the artificially cool air, and loud, pulsing rhythms of the music emitting from the speakers inside. Making the transferrence from the bright outside world to this pounding abyss, she let the door close gently behind her, and was greeted by a familiar face.  
  
"Hi! Welcome to Seventh Heaven Bar and Club, will you be staying today?" Said the hostess, Tifa Lockheart as she looked at her customer quizzically. Had she ever seen this young woman before? She looked very familiar, yet she couldn't recall quite where. She finally couldn't resist but to ask, "I'm sorry, don't take this the wrong way, but, do I know you from somewhere? Magazine cover, maybe?" The girl laughed.  
  
"Aw, c'mon Teef! You mean you don't remember me?" She removed her dark sunglasses and put them in the front pocket of her short jacket. She giggled as the hostess brought a hand to her open mouth and gasped quietly.  
  
"Yuffie!! Oh my god! It's really you!!" Tifa dropped her clipboard as she ran toward and embraced the girl tighter than she'd ever before. The two jumped up and down and laughed hysterically, almost as if they couldn't believe this was actually happening. "Oh, wow...there's so much that's happened...so much you need to know, Yuffie where have you been all these years?!" She said with tears of joy in her eyes. Yuffie looked down at the floor, blinking a few times.  
  
"I guess there's some stuff you should know too, huh?" She turned her face back up after a moment, her face bright as usual. "But not now. Now I want a drink! A real drink." She said with a cutting edge in her voice, and a sly grin. Noting Tifa's hesitation, she added "I'm twenty, Tifa, it's quite okay to serve me a drink."  
  
"Alright." She replied, softly as she moved over to the bar. "What'll it be?"  
  
"Whatever's good tonight, Teef. Surprise me!" She said, hopping up on a barstool, greeting the man next to her, in her usual carefree, yet somewhat oblivious, way.  
  
"Hey there. Never seen you around here before." He said, turning his eyes toward her. He wasn't bad looking, and his suave manner definietly was attractive. He had brown hair and blue eyes that sparkled with desire for sometihng. Tifa watched him carefully as she cleaned another glass and placed it on the rack. She knew this man, and she also knew not to trust him farther than one could throw him (which, in her case, was quite far.) She decided to attempt to intervene.  
  
"Hey, Yuffie, wanna check out the new dance floor while I make up your drink?" She offered. Yuffie frowned.  
  
"I dunno, maybe later. I'm kinda tired, need to loosen up a bit, ya see?" She replied, picking an olive from the basket on the counter and popping it into her mouth. Tifa huffed as she went back to cleaning the glasses. Her little ritual was broken as the noise of the door opening signaled the arrival of another customer, and she placed the glass on the counter, rushing to their assistance. With her gone, the man turned back to Yuffie.  
  
"So, what are you doing here this time of the week? I didn't think the kids came until Friday nights." He commented, amused. Although it was none of his buisiness, and she knew that quite well, she decided to play along.  
  
"Oh, I dunno. I just felt like getting something to drink, thats all. I had a nice long day." She giggled, the thrill of trying alcohol for the first time was rushing through her head, filling her with anticipation. "What kinda stuff do they serve here nowadays?" She inquired. He laughed.  
  
"Well, it aint as hardcore as it used to be, but Tiff makes a pretty good drink..." He started. She interrupted quickly.  
  
"Um, its pronounced 'Teef'."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's 'Teef', you said 'Tiff' as in Tiffany." He smiled, sort of sarcastically, but was interrupted once again when Tifa called from behind them.  
  
"Hey Yuffie! C'mere! Look who it is!" She shouted with enthusiasm. Both customers turned and noticed the slightly tall man with short blonde hair and a leather jacket standing with the hostess at the door. Possibly his most noticable features were his eyepatch (from a recently damaged cornea) and the fact that he still smoked cigars, when most people at this time had switched to cigarettes.  
  
"Cid! Hey!" Yuffie shouted across the bar, jumping off her seat, and running up into his arms as he swept her up in a bear hug and kissed her on the cheek.  
  
"Aw, kid! Where ya been? It's been so long! I haven't seen you since...damn...a few days after the war ended!" He exclaimed, setting her down on the floor. Her smile was as huge as ever, and it seemed to light up the entire room with a golden aura, despite its flashing red and blue lights. "So how old are you now, no, wait, don't tell me! I'll guess...erm...you are...fifteen! Right?" He shouted, trying to keep a straight face.  
  
"Cid!" She said, pushing him playfully, "I'm twenty! I'm actually and "adult" now, whatever that means." His eye widened.  
  
"Twenty, eh? Well then, lets see your drivers liscence, ma'am." She grinned over her shoulder as she walked back to the bar.  
  
"In a minute, Cid. I won't be long, just need to finish my drink!" Cid's face darkenened.  
  
"Did she say 'drink'?"  
  
Tifa nodded, slowly.  
  
"Aw, shit."  
  
* * *  
  
One hour later  
  
Yuffie Kisaragi almost fell out of her chair laughing for the twentieth time that night, as the man told her another sidesplitting joke. Or perhaps she just thought they were sidesplitting, as, in her current condition, the countertop was hilarious if one looked at it correctly.  
  
"So then I says to the guy, 'Now there's an eleventh floor'." He smiled as he achieved another round of roaring laughter from the young woman. She caught her breath, and said to him.  
  
"Wow...man, you are too funny! I gotta come back here more often." His eyes narrowed slightly, and he smiled a little wider.  
  
"Hey...you've had quite few there, you sure you can get home okay?" He leaned in close to her, examening her beauty. This girl was absolutely gorgeous, and he was going to do all he could to ensure that they would have some "time alone" later on.  
  
"Sure, sure..I'm fine, just fine." She laughed, trying to pass of her drunkenness. He remained persistent.  
  
"You sure? I'd hate to see this pretty face get banged up in a car accident..." He brought a hand to her face, running it down the side of her cheek. Not five seconds later, his hand was jerked away by someone behind them. Again, they turned and saw none other than Cid Highwind, glaring down at the man beside Yuffie.  
  
"Okay, I think its time for me to take her back home. Thanks for your help, Mick." He added, sarcastically. Mick stood up.  
  
"Now you wait just one minute, I believe girl wants to come home with me, not Cid the pirate. Yardy harr har." He mocked Cid's eyepatch. The pilot clenched his fists tightly, trying to restrain himself.  
  
"Let's go, Yuffie." He said, reaching to take her by the arm. He was stopped as the man known as Mick stepped between them.  
  
"Does this have to get ugly?" He threatened. Cid smirked and grabbed Mick by the collar, slamming his fist into his left eye. A dazed Mick slid down the counter, and messily clattered to the floor.  
  
"I believe it already has." Cid said, teasing the man below him. With some effort, Mick helped himself up again, blinking furiously, and squared off against Cid.  
  
"Okay, fine, we'll have it your way." He put up his fists, almost causing the pilot to burst out laughing at his faulty stance. Cid decided to play along, as Mick took a few erratic swings at him, each missing miserably. With a sweeping motion, Cid's arm flew around the back of the other man's neck, jerking his body down and putting him in a headlock. In between landing punishing blows to Mick's face, Cid walked him over to the exit of the bar.  
  
"Arr, ya little bitchass! Yarrdy har harr!" He released his hold on Mick's neck, and pushed him almost through the glass doors. Mick desperately tried to find a handle to help him stay vertical, but Cid took the honor of pushing the door open. With one last shot, he nailed the man directly in the nose, snapping his head back and throwing his body to the pavement outside, nose exuding a steady stream of blood. "Arr, and don't ye ever show yer carcass 'round these parts again! Arr!" He shouted, victoriously as he turned back into the bar. He was greeted with the cheers of its patrons, and a pat on the back from its hostess.  
  
"Thanks a lot," She whispered to him, "I was getting kinda worried for Yuffie, but wasn't sure what to do. I'm glad you did." She giggled. "Oh, Cid, I can always count on you to be direct!" He smiled, but then noticed that the only wallflower at the celebration was Yuffie, who was sitting at the bar, hanging her head down.  
  
"What? What's the matter? The creep's gone!" He said, walking over to her. She still frowned.  
  
"He wasn't so bad..." She looked like she might cry, and Cid rolled his eyes.  
  
"Come on, kid, you're drunk. Let's take you home, okay?"  
  
"I am not swear! I drunk!" She tried to insist. The bar laughed as Cid took her arm and guided her stumbling body out the door and into her car. The funny thing was, she didn't even notice him taking her keys.  
  
"Say, now this is a mighty nice tub ya got here. Musta cost an arm and a leg." He marveled as the doors slid open, and he helped Yuffie inside.  
  
Almost through the whole ride to the Midgar Hotel, Yuffie said nothing. She just sat in her seat and crossed her arms, like a scolded child. Cid turned to her.  
  
"Come on, kid, you know as well as I do that things were getting a little crazy back there. Don't go making a fool of yourself like that again. And stay off the funny stuff, it'll get to you after a while, I know from very personal experience." He said, trying to reach something in her clouded mind. She finally spoke.  
  
"I just think it's wrong that whenever I meet a guy, you wanna protect me from him, like you're my dad or something. I just was having a little fun!" This angered Cid as he stopped the car in front of the hotel's entrance.  
  
"Look, kid, that guy's no good, ya hear me? No good. You stay away from him and his kind for your own welfare, ya see?" He demanded. His rage lightened as he saw little tears form in her eyes, and she turned away. "Aw, listen, kid. I know you're all young and crazy, but don't go getting yourself into trouble like that. There are plenty of guys in this world that aren't bums like Mick, and are yours for the taking. You just haven't looked in the right places." He assured her, and they walked out of the car, and into the hotel lobby. "Room for one please?" Cid inquired of the man at the desk. He eyed them suspiciously. "I'm just dropping her off." He added, annoyed.  
  
"343, third floor right wing." The man said, throwing Cid a key. Deciding to take the elevator up, he continued to lead a very out-of-it Yuffie to her room, where he opened the door.  
  
The room was nice, simple, yet elegant. While Cid was admiring the decor, Yuffie only cared about one thing: the bed across the room. She stripped off her black jacket, removed her shoes, and dropped straight down onto the mattress. Cid followed after, draping a blanket across her body, and shutting off the light.  
  
"I live a few blocks down, and I'll leave my number by the phone. Call me in the morning when you're ready to leave." He opened the door and stepped out of it, "G'night, ya little party animal." He said to her quietly. She smiled and closed her eyes as her mind became lost in the white sheets that enveloped her, and she drifted off to sleep.  
  
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"Haha, yes! I'll have three orders of pancakes and a ham and cheese omlette with orange juice delivered to room 343, please. And no, I honsetly don't care what time it is. I would like breakfast delivered, thank you." She spoke into the phone, as she sat on her bed, legs crossed, her left foot bouncing at the ankle. "Thanks a bunch! I'll be waiting." She hung up the phone and gazed over at the clock. It was three in the afternoon, and she had just fully woken up from a terrible hangover, which it took her all night and morning to sleep off. However, now all she could think about was how hungry she was, and the fact that she hadn't eaten in almost an entire day.  
  
When the knock at the door came, she jumped up to answer it, almost tripping over her jacket which she'd left in the middle of the floor. Regaining her bearings, she smoothed out her hair, and opened the door, welcoming in her oddly large order of food. Not caring what kind of mess she made, she set the tray down on the bed, and set to work, rotating between each meal as she went. By the time she had reached her third order of pancakes, the phone rang.  
  
"Hwmpho?" she said, her mouth full of food.  
  
"Kid? Is that you?" The voice of her friend eminated from the other end of the line. Yuffie giggled and swallowed her food, picking up the phone again.  
  
"Hiiii Ciiiiiid!!" She said cheerily into the phone.  
  
"Where the hell were you? It's almost four o' clock! I told you to call me as soon as you woke up, and I've been waiting by the phone since seven this morning!" He yelled into the reciever. She snickered.  
  
"Well, I wasn't feeling so good this morning, so I slept it off, and here I am, only now I'm eating breakfast."  
  
"Alright, well, just finish up. I'll be right down." He grumbled. As she polished off the last of her orange juice, there came a second knock at the door. Approaching it, she inquired,  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"Arr, its Highwind the scourge, come ter make ye walk the plank!" Cid joked from the outside. Yuffie opened it, and tossed her head back, laughing. "Well, its good to see you back to normal, now c'mon down. There's a surprise for ya waiting outside." He turned and headed downstairs as she got dressed and washed her face. Fifteen minutes later, she left the suite, and took the elevator down to the ground floor. When she arrived at the front desk, she said to the clerk,  
  
"Kisaragi, room 343 for checkout?" The man at the desk strolled his eyes down the list, and found her name. He looked up at her.  
  
"A Mr. Highwind has already paid your fee, miss. Have a nice day." She smiled and ran outside.  
  
"Aww, Cid! You shouldn't ha..."  
  
"Yuffie!!" Someone shouted, barreling into her, knocking her flat on her back, and squeezing her harder than anyone had previously. She looked up and saw the kind face and spiky blonde hair of her former friend, Cloud Strife.  
  
"Cloud! Hey!! Wow, I'm just so popular around here, aren't I?" She chuckled. He helped her up, and apologized for knocking her over. "Ah, thats okay. I can take it. Hey, who's this?" She asked pointing at the little boy on the sidewalk. He looked no more than three years old, his brown hair blew in the wind, and his hazel eyes stared up at her. He wore a blue outfit, similar to the one she remembered Cloud wearing back in the wartime.  
  
"Yuffie," Cloud said proudly, "I'd like you to meet our son, Truss." Yuffie looked as if she'd been struck by lightning, and Tifa burst out laughing as she draped her arms around Cloud's shoulders. It was only now that Yuffie noticed the ring on her finger.  
  
"Oh my god! No way! Y...you guys are...oh my god!!" She babbled. Cloud led her back into her car, with Cid in the driver's seat.  
  
"Hi, Miss Kissergee." Truss greeted her, trying to pronouince her name. Everyone laughed.  
  
"Hey there, Mr. Streef." She retorted, playfully. The five friends laughed and chatted the whole way home, upon which Cid called to them through the window.  
  
"I'm gonna take this back to my place, clean it up a bit for ya. I'll take it back here as this is probably where you'll be staying for a while. See ya later, kids!" He shouted, driving away. The gang turned back toward the house. Yuffie gasped.  
  
"It's...it's so beautiful! Guys, how did you get this place?" The huge mansion was settled cozily on a green hill, with trees and shrubbery placed artfully around it.  
  
"You like?" Cloud asked, relishing in the moment of her astonishment. She nodded weakly. "Come on inside! There's lots more to see."  
  
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"So you still into your ninja stuff there, Yuffs?" Tifa asked her as she plucked a flower from the back garden. Truss' happy shouts could be heard from farther out in the woods as Cloud chased after him, pretending not to be able to catch up to him.  
  
"Yes I am. I've gotten even more serious about it." She said back to Tifa, who nodded in approval.  
  
"Same here, I've become a more dedicated martial artist. We should share techniques sometime." Yuffie giggled.  
  
"Well, Ninjitsu is quite different from your scope of martial arts, but I'm willing to try." Tifa placed the flower on a wooden outdoor table.  
  
"Oh, really. Is that so?" She said, standing with her arms akimbo. "Then teach me, o great ninja mistress Kisaragi."  
  
"Nah, you wouldn't get it. Ninjitsu is a way of life, not a sport." Her curt reply more than just tested Tifa' patience.  
  
"Okay, then show me your 'way of life', grasshopper." She mocked Yuffie, still keeping a friendly undertone in her voice.  
  
"As you wish, Bakatare." Yuffie said, her palms facing outward, and her forearms crossed in front of her chest. A slight smile emerged on her lips as she wondered how far this silly contest would go.  
  
"What was that?" Tifa asked putting up her fists. The two began to encircle each other, but stopped when they heard Cloud's voice come from the left. "Hey! What are you guys doing here?" Tifa demanded of Cloud and Truss.  
  
"Nothing, we just don't wanna miss the fun. Now Truss, this is what we call 'quality entertainment.' Very rare, but worth the wait." He grinned. Yuffie chortled, and then began roaring in laughter as she took an outside view of the spectacle. "Anyway, come on inside the house, it looks like a pretty bad storm to me." Cloud requested, leading his son back to the mansion. The two girls looked back at each other.  
  
"I'll get you later." They stated, simultaneously.  
  
Trudging back up the hill, Yuffie's eyes caught the quick flash of lightning followed by a deafening clap of thunder that almost felled her to her knees. Turning around to gaze up at the sky, she saw the dark clouds gathering in the sky, and the drops of rain beginning to spill over from their residences. Soon the rain was flooding down in all directions, leaving Yuffie standing still, only a few feet from the house.  
  
"Yuffie!" Tifa yelled from inside. "Come on! What are you doing out there?" Reluctantly, Yuffie reversed her direction and headed back into the house. Her hair was dripping, and her clothes were plastered down to her body. "What's up? Why were you standing out there?"  
  
"I dunno...there's something weird about that storm." Yuffie replied, as she went to put on some dry clothes. She left Tifa staring our the glass sliding door, wondering.  
  
What's so weird about it? It's just rain...just...rain...  
  
THE END  
  
part two 


	3. Adam and Eve

ADVERSARY  
  
There is no such thing as time in Limbo...  
  
Were his eyes closed or open? Was he dead or alive? Was that the ground he felt under him, or a hallucination, product of his tortured mind? Nothing made sense to him anymore, and it hadn't for what seemed like an eternity. This truly was the cruelest method of torture. The scathing fires of all nine plains of Hell, or the flesh-hungry demons of the Abyss could never amount to the everlasting pain one endures in Limbo. One was condemed to lie awake in nothingness, forever, with not a soul to comfort them. It was like a strange half-consciousness, a feeling that cannot be comprehended unless experienced personally.  
  
He could not move his limbs, nor open his mouth to speak. There was nothing to smell, and his eyes could not tell the difference between the infinite darkness, and their closed state. The only sound available in his existance was the faint sound of his own breath, coming in a regular pattern of quiet inhalaltion and exhalation. He had been damned to live an eternal nothing.  
  
Oh, Gods...you have punished me well...you've locked me away, melted my key, and shot the local locksmith. Is this what all "evil men" experience in their deaths? Am I somehow different from the rest of the people in this universe? Did you feel a special need to imprison and torture my soul forever in this little piece of nothing? I ask you this: why can I not rest? Why am I bound to lie here like this? Is not my physical life enough of a sacrifice for me to make? You know why I chose the path I did, and you also know, whether you acknowledge it validity or not, why I chose to leave it. You deny me of my sole want, and furthermore, strip me of my rights of a resting place. I have no fires to burn in, nor stars to reside in, nor anything to occupy my mind. I lie here...forever...and wait for something...which will never, ever happen...  
  
He put his full concentration into his anguished thoughts, wondering that if this time, just maybe they heard him, something would be different...they would take pity on his decaying soul. He would try this every so often, when his rationality would fail him, and he felt that he could not endure it any longer. Yet he never achieved any kind of response. He sighed, miserably.  
  
They can't hear me...they never hear me...or maybe they can...maybe they listen to my every thought and laugh at the fool they've made of a once- great man...I wonder how much suffering a single entity can take before it ceases to acknowledge is very own existance...perhaps if I let myself go completely...it will eventually end...  
  
He wondered. It seemed logical that everything had a possibly unforseeable, yet inevitable end to it. Even the mightiest gods in the universe were powerless to fracture this simple law. His mind smiled.  
  
Yeah...I was great once, wasn't I? Nothing could stand in my way...and now someone thinks they can hold me here...Maybe you should know, he who imprisons me, that if given the chance, I would mutilate you beyond possible recognition. You have no idea what you have and are still putting me through, and yet you sit back wherever you are, and mock me in my most pitiful state. I gave my life for a reason, and it was not to spend eternity in Limbo.  
  
He began to work his consciousness into a blinding rage...all he felt was hate and pain; much more than he'd ever felt before.  
  
You cannot hold me, do you understand? I am greater than you will ever be...I will destroy you...I will destroy the prison you've placed me in...and I will get what I gave my life for, do you understand me?  
  
He began to feel odd sensations gradually registering in his brain, but nothing recognizable. He continued his mental tirade.  
  
You...cannot...hold...me!  
  
The sensations grew stronger, and now he knew exactly what they were.  
  
I...will...overcome...your...power!  
  
His limbs, for the first time since he'd been alive in the physical world...began to twitch.  
  
Yes!! You cannot hold me! You cannot hold me!!  
  
His hand, in a clawed position, spasmodically jolted into the air, at his mind's command. He wrung his fingers out, absorbing the phenonmenon of "touch" once again. His body ached from its first movements in ages, but it was a pain he relished; it marked the beginning of his victory over his captors. Slowly, ever so slowly, his body returned to his complete control.  
  
"I WILL DESTROY YOU!" He roared, lashing his arms and legs out furiously. They burned and pulsed with agony, but still he enjoyed every sick moment of it. Finally, with a tremendous shout, he rose to his feet, once again, his face twisted into a wicked grin of triumph. Now he could finally see just where he'd been all of this time.  
  
He had not been laying in darkness, rather on damp grounds encircled by gray mists. The parylization must have affected his eyes as well, for the little bit of light that was present in this place seemed almost painful to his weary lenses. The fog was thick, but he knew that it must end somewhere, for Limbo was the neutral plain between the Upper and Lower plains, and there always was a way out. He gathered himself together, and gazed up into the mist.  
  
"I'm coming."  
  
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The odd atmosphere and bright lights threw his equilibrium through a loop as he struggled to stay focused on what he came here for. The plainar transition had been extremely difficult, and the very composure of this new domain, this holy realm, seemed to watch him, stonily. Never before had one, especially one of his ilk, ever dreamed of a place conducive to such peace and beauty as this, but the details were only secondary at this point, as his eyes were fixated upon the sleeping woman before him.  
  
She was young, astoundingly beautiful with shimmering brown hair, and placid features that would make the great goddesses of love sick with envy. Her body lay fast asleep on a sunbathed stone, her arm cascading down from the side of the rock, leaving the tips of her fingers barely touching the crystalline pool of water that lay adjacent to her. He'd waited so long, and now she lay just feet from him. Pausing to savor the moment, he wondered just where he would take her. It wouldn't exactly be easy to just walk away with her body slung over his shoulder, yet somehow he wasn't afraid of having to subdue her. She made him feel so at ease. She created a small breach in the dark clouds of his mind, and he hoped that she could one day feel the same for him.  
  
He put a quivering finger to her lips, brushing them lightly...admiring their perfection. This little action calmed him, and he lowered himself down on the slab beside her. His fingers moved about her face, touching what they'd longed to touch for years, filling his mind and heart with...an actual joy. This was all he wanted. Just this one moment, etched in his soul forever, the last peaceful time in his existance since as far back as he could remember. However, his bliss faded when his eyes opened and were met with hers, staring directly back. Her jaw rattled, and she became tense as the stone she lay on, trying to remain perfectly still. He watched as she lay frozen in fear, neither of them saying a word, breath coming in barely- noticable measures.  
  
"Please don't be afraid." he begged her. "Please...don't fear me anymore. Please..." he repeated. "I...know what I've done...to you...but please...I've never regetted anything more." He hung his face low, and his silvery locks of hair obscured his face. "I never meant to hurt you...never...I'm so sorry..." She remained silent as he released his pain unto another living thing for the first time. "One reaches a point...a point in which all of the suffering he endures pushes his mind past the boundaries of sanity...and he does something rash...something so insane...and its usually the opposite of what he feels." He spilled his feelings out on the ground before her, discarding his usual solitary and insensitive facade. Four years of torture were finally taking their toll on him.  
  
"What are you saying?" She whispered, almost making him jump. He sighed heavily, and looked away.  
  
"I'm saying that...I..."  
  
"You what?" She whispered again.  
  
"I...love you."  
  
Her eyes bulged, and she spoke no more, for she was too dumbfounded by his last statement.  
  
"I love you, and always have...since the very first time I saw you...and I grew to envy you and desire you to such an extent, that I couldn't bear it. You thought of me as some evil man, someone who must be stopped...destroyed...for your and everyone else's safety. I knew at that point I could never have you...and so I made the absolute worst decision in my life...to take yours so that he couldn't have you." He stopped and inhaled deeply.  
  
"I...came to realize, shortly before my death, what exactly I'd done, to you and your friends...and I couldn't bear it anymore. And, I thought that maybe, if I could give my life to pay for yours...I'd be here with you...but instead...for longer than I want to remember...I've been trapped in Limbo...and it's given me a lot of time to think, and look at exactly what's become of me." She lowered her eyebrows.  
  
"You...you didn't give your life! Cloud destroyed you! I saw it!" she said, still keeping her voice relatively low. He shook his head.  
  
"No...Cloud is skilled, and a very brave man at that...but he's too predictable. Every action he takes follows a certain pattern...but that's not the point! He destroyed me without my even raising a hand. I lowered my sword, and he attacked me in a rage...splitting my flesh until I lay lifeless on the ground before him. I could've killed him...but I chose not to. I gave it all up, just so maybe you'd forgive me one day. And here you are..." He broke off, and turned his face away from her again. This wasn't going to work...it was ridiculous what he was attempting to ask of her. His existance was pointless. It was now that he wished that it would just end, and abruptly stood up, looking back once more at her.  
  
"Wait." She said, raising her body from the stone. "Don't leave." She came to him, and looked up into his troubled eyes. "Where are you going?" He didn't respond to her question, and she placed her hand on his arm.  
  
"Fall with me." He said. She looked taken aback.  
  
"What with you?" She asked him, completely startled by his question.  
  
"Fall with me. Down...down to the lower plains...don't worry, you'll be safe...but fall with me...out of this place." Tears began to well up in her eyes.  
  
"I...I can't leave this place!" She cried. He remained stolid.  
  
"There's nothing for you here. I will let you live again. I'll give you another chance at life...if you'll just fall with me." He stated. She said nothing, but held to him tightly as he began to glow with a mysterious aura. It spread from his fingers into hers, and soon filled the both of them with and incredible disorientation, as the world around them seemed to...melt away, and crumble before their hazy eyes.  
  
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Aeris Gainsborough was dead. Or at least she had been at one point, when Sephiroth had run his blade through her back as she stood, locked in prayer. But now, it seemed incredible...the very man who'd stolen her life, was able to return it, or so he promised.  
  
He claimed that he loved her, and that he'd sacrificed his power and life for a chance to be with her in the eternal resting place, but never reached it. The Gods had labled him "fit to be eternally tortured", and cast his soul into Limbo. However, overcoming all known possible mortal boundaries, Sephiroth was able to make the transition from Limbo to the Upper Plains to find her, and then down again, to the Realm Of Shadows. Such bounds had only been made by warring Gods, leading interplainer invasions across the universe.  
  
New lives began for Sephiroth and Aeris in the Realm Of Shadows, as he'd promised. They had two sons, one born a single year after the other, on the very same day, when all three moons shone in the midnight sky at their brightest. The first boy born was named Alexander, the younger was called Elianor. The elder born of his father's liking, with a similar style of silvery flowing hair, and sharp, almost elven features. The younger, however, was more akin to his mother, with thick, dark eyebrows masking huge eyes, and short locks of brown hair draping not lower than his chin.  
  
The new family had prospered over the years, both sons growing up to be fine warriors, taking after their father. Alexander recently reached his eighteenth birthday, and Elianor celebrated his seventeenth, respectively. However, through observing their sons' maturitation, they'd succeeded in noticing one thing: their own lack of aging. Both Sephiroth and Aeris Gainsborough had not aged a single day since they'd been alive in the Prime Material Plain, yet both boys had grown at a seemingly accelerated rates. After months of meditation and theorizing, Sephiroth had concluded that one's body is only prone to the effects of time in its native plain, and when resting in another plain, such as the Heavens or layers of Hell, is immune to conventional aging. It seemed to make sense to everyone around, including the other lost souls, whom were either lost or seeking refuge in the Realm Of Shadows. The only one who seemed discontent was Aeris, who from time to time, would gaze out into the dark haze, wondering what she gave up for this "new life."  
  
Sephiroth noticed her this time, her long brown hair sweeping behind her, with her head slightly bowed, and her hands folded beneath her chin. What was it that she was thinking, with an expression so sullen, and hands clenched so tightly? Was she unhappy in this world he made for her? Why shouldn't she be unhappy? She'd given up her eternity in heaven for an existance in the shadows, and he was to blame for it. A dark guilt hung over his heart. There was no chance of them ever getting back to the Heavens, as they were both Fallen Angels, and how could he find a way back to the Prime Material Plain? The Gods had banished him forever...yet they'd also doomed him to Limbo, and were foiled by his efforts. Therefore, there were no limits that could be placed on Sephiroth that would stand the test of time. He approached her, whispering softly into her ear.  
  
"I will find a new home for us...I can promise you that."  
  
"But...Sephiroth...we're dead! Remember?" She responded hopelessly. He smiled, darkly.  
  
"I know nothing of this 'death' that you speak of. Please tell me what it's got to do with you and I." She looked back at him with sad eyes. His defiant tone wasn't what she wanted to hear right now, but he did seem strangely confident. It was a small comfort to her troubled heart as he embraced her, and walked her away from the ledge near which she stood.  
  
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It was a darker night than usual in the Realm Of Shadows. Only one moon was slightly visible, and it cast vague shadows behind obscure shilouettes of once-familiar things. One shape noticable above them all was that of his, eyes glistening in the dim light. He threw is head back and shouted in his most boisterous voice.  
  
"I have a challenge for you, o' he who still imprisons me. I'm going to get the hell out of this place, and you're going to try and stop me!" The air around his body rippled and hummed as he focused his inner energy, that he'd so long left unused. A feeling of euphoria coursed through him, as the ripples in the air glowed, and cast occasional multicolored beams of light out into the sky. The tides in the sea rose, as the waters began to spiral into a growing whirlpool. Purple streaks of lightning rent the air, and the ground shook with deafening rage.  
  
"Not so great, are we now? I've told you before that you couldn't hold me, and it's still the same to this night! Never, ever will you hold Sephiroth against his will! Tonight you...all of you...will come to see what a grave, grave mistake you all have made."  
  
The storm grew and grew, fueled by Sephiroth's fury, becoming more wild and out-of-control than even he himself had expected. The Gods themselves seemed to roar and clash amonst one another in the sky as the grey droplets of icy rain pelted his skin, stinging sharply with each contact. Where water once lay, a pool of liquid flame rose and fell with each wave of the storm. Where trees once stood, smoldering wreckage fell in a heap. The powers of Balance had more than met their match this time.  
  
It's time you fools stopped obscuring my path...  
  
THE END  
  
part three 


	4. A Whole New World

ADVERSARY  
  
Guardia Castle, 1004 A.D.  
  
The torrential rains mercilessly chilled his bare skin to the bone as they hit him in watery sheets, propelled by the gales. His arms had been scraped bloody from their tight hold on the stone spire, but it was all he could do to keep from plummeting to his death in the midst of this horrific storm. Perhaps fighting a platoon of royal guards to the death would have been more enjoyable than freezing to death on top of the castle like a stupid cat stuck in a tree. In fact, he could still hear the periodic shouts of the guards below, having been ordered to guard the window should Crono attempt to re-enter through it, and to ensure that he stay trapped up on the spire.  
  
He cursed himself for stopping to rest once he'd broke from the King's chambers. If only he'd kept going, he would have been able to safely escape the castle before the rains picked up. Now, in the middle of a small hurricane, he would surely die if he were to try to climb down the castle walls or something similar. He thought of Lucca, and hoped that she'd made it home okay, and he thought of his mother, and wondered how worried she must be that her son hasn't returned home. He thought of as many things he could to try and block the storm out of his mind, but could never shake the feeling that made him want to emerce himself in flames, the damned rain that incessantly drenched him, soaking his tense flesh.  
  
For some reason or another, the guards at the windows below began to shout in panic, and a great clamour rose from within the castle.  
  
Why the hell should I care what's wrong with them? It's not like I'd ever stick my neck out for anyone in this world again, seeing the kind of appreciation it gets me...  
  
But, however reluctant he was, he eventually did try to see what they were shouting about, and what he saw both terrified and amazed him at the same time.  
  
The area about one mile from the castle, just past the forest...was glowing. Worse, it seemed to be moving closer by the second. A bright gold-and-white light encroached upon the castle grounds, devouring that which stood in its way. What was it going to do? What did it want? Where did it come from? Such childish questions ran through his head as he helplessly waited for it to consume him. Now mere feet from his body, the light emitted its pulsating warmth, and actally seemed to pause for a moment before washing over Crono and the spire. The light was warm, terribly bright, and it overpowered all of his senses until, at last, he remembered nothing more.  
  
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The house was relatively quiet as they waited for the next horrifying wave of the storm to hit. The predominant sounds were that of the rain rapping against the windows, and Cloud's whispering to his frightened child.  
  
"It's alright, guy. It's gonna be okay. It's just a little rain, you like rain, remember?" Truss was silent, sitting wide eyed and alert, waiting for the next scary noise from outside. It was at that moment, as she watched Cloud, Tifa, and their son huddled together in the middle of the floor, that she wished someone was there for her. Maybe even if Cid were there, he'd have something funny to whisper to her about Cloud's hair, and make her laugh and feel safe again, but there was no one besides her sitting on the empty couch, hugging her knees. Suddenly, a blast of thunder shook the house, making Truss yelp and hide within his father's shirt. Yuffie gulped, trying to control her fears.  
  
"Yeah...see? I told ya there was something weird about the storm. I wouldn't be surprised if the windows gave..." She blurted.  
  
"No! Dad, tell her she's lying!" Truss was now squeezing the life out of Cloud's hand in sheer panic. His eyes narrowed, and he stood up, handing his shaking son over to Tifa, and turning back to Yuffie.  
  
"Listen, its just a storm, we are all going to be fine, you understand me? We've been through a lot more than just a stupid thunderstorm." She glared at him, resentfully.  
  
"Look, I'm not your kid alright? I'm not the little teenage girl among the 'big people' anymore, so stop telling me what to do, like I'm a nuisance that you have to 'deal with'!" She shot back. His teeth ground together.  
  
"This isn't about you, it's about trying to stay calm!" He hissed at her, motioning to his son. Yuffie grumbled, and lay down, facing the back of the couch, so as not to have to look at them.  
  
Yeah, you're so tough in front of your wife...psh...I could take you, shorty...  
  
Her thoughts made her giggle, and she snickered evilly, spinning around again, with a wide smile. Her wide smile was met with three distraught faces, however.  
  
"What?" Cloud asked her, getting irritated. She burst out laughing once again, as she was known to do almost all the time. She wiped away the tears of hysteria that began to fill her eyes.  
  
"You! You're just so funny to look at when you get mad and start 'giving orders' like that." His face twisted in barely restrained anger, and the veins in his neck swelled.  
  
"Teef," He said through his gritted teeth, "let's go sit in Truss' room. It's getting a little crowded in here. Come on." She looked up at him, confused.  
  
"Why? This is the safest room in the house." Tifa protested. Cloud's face reddened more so.  
  
"Tifa...nothing is going to happen. We are perfectly safe anywhere in this house, ya get me?"  
  
"No, I don't get you. Sit down Cloud, and will you both just act like civilized people instead of constantly going for each other's throats? We're friends, remember?"  
  
"No." Cloud grumbled sarcastically as he sat down on the carpeted floor. Yuffie's mouth hung open slightly as she looked upon him in disgust.  
  
"Fine then. I don't want to intrude on your 'happy family.' I'll see my way to the door." She briskly walked to the exit and reached for the knob. Tifa tried to get up and stop her, but Yuffie had too much of a head start. She flung the door open, stepped through, and slammed it closed, meeting the inhumane downpour outside. It felt as if the ocean had been placed above the world, and was let fall down to the ground. Instantly she believed she was submerged in water, and panicked, flailing this way and that, and ultimately falling face down on the sidewalk outside the house, her mouth and nose in about two inches of water.  
  
"Yuffie! Oh my god! Yuffie! Are you alright?" Tifa shouted as she knelt down beside the fallen girl on the pavement. A swirled cloud of red rose in the water around Yuffie's face, and it ran down the walk in a weak stream. Water was pouring down on them, blowing into them, and running in small waves under them. The storm was a true nightmare, and its first victim was Yuffie Kisaragi. Tifa swept her body up, and bolted through the still-open door to the house, trying to find a safe place to let the girl down. She found one in Truss' bedroom, and she lay Yuffie's body down on the soft bed that stood parallel to the left wall.  
  
Yuffie had already swallowed and inhaled a large quantity of floodwater, and blood was gushing from her lips and nose. Still conscious, however, the girl had been scared half to death, and she trembled and shivered like the wind. She began to sob, and she developed a new kind of fear for the storm, for it had almost cost her life. She stopped shaking as much when Tifa began to tend to her injuries, and Cloud's strong hand braced her shoulder for support.  
  
"I'm sorry, Yuffie. This is all my fault...I was just trying to keep everything under control, and we kinda crossed swords a little bit. I apologize." He mumbled, looking at the floor. She smiled with her swollen lips as best she could.  
  
"It's okay. It takes two to act like a coupla dumbasses." Cloud chuckled at her remark, but he wondered if maybe he really was to blame. Was he too commanding and pushy? Did he still treat Yuffie like a little kid? He didn't exactly mean to treat her like a kid, but hed just gotten so accustomed to her being the "youngblood" of the group, that sometimes he wouldn't stop to think about who he was talking to, and what she was really like now. She wasn't the goofy, skinny, little sixteen-year-old that was constantly getting herself into trouble anymore, and she definitely had grown up quite a bit. She was quite tall, almost as tall as he was, and she actually filled out her clothing, too. However mature she was now, though, she still had an equally large immature side, and she was a total kid at heart. But however mischevious she could be, Cloud and his friends still felt a great sense of caring towards Yuffie, and were just trying to look out for her, even if they could get a little agitated at times. Cloud smiled. However loud the storm howled, the bond between the people in the house could never be shaken.  
  
But the glowing lights outside begged to differ...  
  
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"Dude." The voice said  
  
"Hmm? Wha...?" Crono answered, weakly  
  
"Dude! Wake up!" It said again, louder this time.  
  
"Mmph! What?" He sat up, groggy eyed, pain radiating through his whole body.  
  
"Man, what happened to you? I came out to see what was up after the lights faded, and I found you just lying facedown in the grass. Where'd you come from anyway, dude...hey, thats a kickass 'do" The person babbled.  
  
"Umm...my hair? Oh...it just sorta...does that on its own. Where did I come from? Truce village...in Guardia Kingdom. Listen, I haven't been having a great day...so I think I'm gonna go home, and I'll talk to you later if I see your around, but thanks for checking if I was okay." He tried to lift his miserably tattered body up from the ground, but collapsed after his first attempt. The pain from whatever injuries he'd sustained were far too great.  
  
"Here, lemme help you with that." The young man lifted Crono up, and set him on his sore feet. Crono could now look him in the eye. He was tall, not quite as tall as Crono, and around the same age, with short, strangely colored brown-and-blonde hair that was parted at the top of his head, and had strands sweeping down to the length of his temples all around his skull. Below his hairline were a pair of blue lensed goggles, resting on his forehead. He wore a white t-shirt, with some kind of logo in the middle, and blue pants that widened as they went down, to the point were only the tips of his shoes were visible. His disposition was friendly enough...something Crono hadn't seen in a long time, and the only other thing odd about him were his hands. They seemed to be wrapped in metal bands that disappeared into his skin at the wrists. Yet however thick the bands were, he was able to move his hands freely, just as Crono or anyone else was. The young man spoke.  
  
"Hey, I haven't seen you around anywhere...and I think I woulda recognized you. Guardia you say you come from? Well, I never heard of it...but something really weird's been going on, man. First there's this really huge storm, right? Then there are these big lights that just start swallowing things...and now...its like, I leave the city over there, and I see you, and this FREAKIN' CASTLE sitting right here." Crono was dumbfounded. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Guardia castle, sitting about a mile away, just as it should be. He whipped his head the other way, and saw that at the bottom of the hill...was a road. And that road...led to a city, only, not a city like Truce or Porre. It was like a city from the future of his race, from the era that he'd visited many times before...only this one wasn't decaying like the future's. Crono began to panic.  
  
"Listen, what's your name?"  
  
"My name? Its Leon, Leon Alazane."  
  
"Okay, Hi Leon Leon Alazane, my name is Crono, and..." He was cut off.  
  
"No, it's just 'Leon', and my last name is 'Alazane.' Speaking of which, Crono dude, what's you're last name?" Crono raised and eyebrow.  
  
"Last...name?" Leon nodded, but then stopped.  
  
"Oh, I get it, you guys don't have last names. Oh, it's all so clear to me now...woah...a race without last names...wow...how do you get your mail?" Crono slapped himself on the forehead.  
  
"What are you talking about?! Male? Yes I am...and what does this have to do with the name I had last?" It was Leon's turn to slap himself on the forehead.  
  
"Woah, man...talk about cultureclash...you're really not from around here, are you?" Crono's head sunk a few inches.  
  
"But I am from around here! I live just a few miles away!"  
  
"Well, so do I, and I've been around a lot, and I've never seen that kickass hair, or that...that castle that looks like something from a fairy tale, anywhere I've been."  
  
"Well I've never noticed your city at the bottom of this hill, and I've lived here all my life!" Crono practically shouted.  
  
"Calm down, dude. Ya don't wanna work that blood pressure any more than ya gotta." Crono raised an open hand, and looked away.  
  
"I don't wanna know. I just don't wanna know..." He muttered to himself, but he turned back to Leon, concerned.  
  
"Look, what is that city over there, the one you came from?" He asked.  
  
"Uh, that's Midgar. It looks a lot better nowadays, now that ShinRa's gone, and theres no more Sephiroth..."  
  
"Alright! That's all I wanted to know...just the name." He paused to think a while. The castle was not that far away, and the guards were probably still looking for him. And, not to mention, they would probably come to his house, and try to arrest him, and while they were at it, try to arrest Lucca as well. "Midgar, you say, eh? A nice place, hmm? Could a guy hang there for a little while and have some fun?" Leon's eyes brightened.  
  
"Sure man, it's really great in Midgar. Lots of fun there, if ya know what I mean." He winked at Crono. Of course Crono had no idea what he meant, but decided to play along, nevertheless. Crono stopped to think again. What did he really have going for him in Truce? He had a few friends, and his mother, but he also now had a castle full of enemies, and a princess and king who wanted nothing more than his head on a stick. Whatever this new world was that came in the beams of light, it had to be better than the one he was in now, for whatever reason it was here.  
  
"Well, alright. I think you'll have to show me around a bit, but I wanna go back there with you." Leon's eyes almost popped out.  
  
"Woah, you serious? Cool, man! Hey, by the way, can you board?"  
  
"Can I what?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, duh, never mind, I'll show you when we get there. Do you, uh, need to bring some stuff with you?" He asked Crono. Crono pondered it for a minute, there was nothing he could think of that he really needed...besides: He snapped his fingers.  
  
"My katana! I need that...hold on, I'll get it." And he ran off, his legs hurtling his body across the land, and into the woods that lay before the great castle. Meanwhile, Leon sat down against the tree, and popped open a can of soda. By the time he had swallowed half of the can, Crono came running back, his sword at his waist. "Alright, I'll talk to Lucca later, it's a little dangerous for me to do right now. But anyway, lets go, man!" Both young men began their descent down the hill, to the vast cityscape below.  
  
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The city was incredible. From the seemingly mile-high, sleek, metal and glass structures, to the things called "cars" that sped through the streets, to the huge helicopters that chopped and whirred overhead. Absolutely everything was astonishing to Crono, and it made him wonder what he'd been doing in a backwards place like Truce all twenty-one years of his life.  
  
The first thing they did was head back to Leon's apartment, and get Crono some new clothes.  
  
"I'm sorry dude, but you stick out like a sore freakin' thumb. You need some 'street' clothes, not that Ninja garb you're rockin'. Here, take these." He threw Crono a pair of blue "jeans" as they were called, and a black sleeveless shirt to go with them. Crono also donned a thick chain bracelet on each wrist, convinced that it would make him look "wicked awesome."  
  
"Anyway dude, I dunno about you, but I'm starved. What say we go get something to eat?" Crono ever-too-happily agreed, as he hadn't eaten since he'd left Lucca's house, God only knows how long ago.  
  
"Sounds great."  
  
* * *  
  
The place Leon chose to have lunch was definitely interesting to Crono, much different than he'd ever seen before. You went into the building, told the "waitress" what you wanted to eat, you left the building, sat down at a table outside, and she brought you your food. Leon marvled at Crono's seemingly endless appetite, as he ravaged another slice of pizza, having already put away an entire pie.  
  
"Dude, you weren't kidding when you said you were hungry."  
  
"I know, dude, but this shit is just so crazy! I'm lovin' the pizza." Crono replied. Leon's dialect was already starting to rub off on him, and it hadn't even been an entire day since they'd met. In between monstrous bites of the food, Crono looked up and saw Leon gazing over Crono's shoulder, and grinning from ear to ear. It wasn't long before a young girl with short brown hair and large looped earrings came bouncing over to their table.  
  
"Hiii Leeeon!" She said, letting her voice ring out musically. He bobbed his head up and down slightly, and relaxed his eyelids.  
  
"Hey there, Mel. What's with you today?" He said, trying to sound disinterested. She stared at him with huge eyes, and a eurphoric smile, as she breathed deeply and relaxed.  
  
"Oh, nothing, just getting some pizza." She sighed. "You going to call me tonight? It's been a while, ya know." He lifted her chin up to look him in the face.  
  
"Hey, c'mon Mel. I still love ya the same, I've just been busy, that's all. You know how everyone's gone crazy about the wierd storm and the lights." She smiled again, a new look of hope in her jewled eyes.  
  
"Okay then...byyye Leeeon" She sang again, but then. "Oh, hello."  
  
"Mmmph." Crono said to her with a wave. He didn't feel like giving up his pizza for small talk with someone he didn't know. She giggled, nevertheless, and was on her out the door. Crono noticed Leon following her with his eyes. When he looked back at his feasting companion, he noticed Crono looking at him awkwardly with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.  
  
"What?" Leon asked him, guitily. Crono finished eating before answering.  
  
"And what was that all about?" He grilled him with pretend suspicion.  
  
"Nothing much, just a female friend. I got a few." He said cooly, yet proudly. Crono laughed softly.  
  
"Ohh, I get it. You mean your wife." They both laughed, but Leon quickly assured him.  
  
"Nah, not my wife. Stable relationships give me the creeps. It's like tying a plastic bag around your neck and inhaling deeply." They laughed again, when Leon continued, "Hey, speaking of which, you got yourself a chick? I should think you would." Crono looked down, through the table, through the grass, and out the other side of the planet he was standing on, deep into space. He watched the stars and astral bodies until someone summoned him back to reality.  
  
"Yo...Crono...I asked you a question...do you have a girlfriend?" His eyes snapped back up.  
  
"Um, yes. I mean, no actually...well...we just kinda broke up yesterday." He babbled, trying not to reveal any information.  
  
"Ohh, I see. Lemme guess: She thinks she's a little princess, and you want your space, she confronts you about it, it gets pretty harsh, and you leave. Right?" Crono couldn't help but laugh, sadly.  
  
"You couldn't be more right if you were in the room." He stated, shaking his head. Leon slapped his palm down on the ceramic table.  
  
"That's it then, dude! We'll go to Seventh Heaven tonight!" Crono eyed him, confused.  
  
"Seventh what?"  
  
"The Seventh Heaven Bar, man! That Lockheart girl runs it. Woah, is she something...anyway, it's great if your single, especially on a Friday like today. All these chicks come down on Friday night, and man...it gets crazy. You gotta go there with me tonight, and I'll find someone good for you there. I know all the chicks in this town, man, you're gonna have a great time, trust me!" He seemed so sure about what he was saying, that Crono decided to play along.  
  
What could one night in a silly bar do to me?  
  
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"Okay, so you and Marlene are okay? No injuries, no real damage to your house? Hey, that's great. Okay, later Barret." Cloud turned back to his wife and friend as he hung up the phone. "Well, I think that's everyone. They're all okay. Whatever that storm was, at least it didn't hurt anyone." Yuffie looked at him very bitingly. "Er, too many people." He corrected. Tifa stood up, clapping her hands together.  
  
"Okay then. Well, since its Friday, I gotta get to the bar. Tonight's the big night for customers. Yuffie, you wanna help me set up? We could use the extra help, I'm sure we're not going to have a full staff tonight."  
  
"Hey, sure. I'd love to." Yuffie agreed. Cloud spoke up.  
  
"Alright, I'll drive you guys there and then come back and spend some time with my boy. Call me when you need a ride back." Tifa nodded.  
  
"Okay, we'll just need a minute to get ready. Get the car out of whatever mess it's in." He left the room, and the front door was heard opening and closing seconds later. Tifa turned back to her friend. "Hey, listen. I know you've been cooped up in here with us the past very many hours, so I'll make it up to you. I don't really need too much help setting up, so you can just have fun like everyone else once the place opens, free of charge...under one condition." She let her tone hang, suspensefully.  
  
"What might that be?"  
  
"No drinking. You got yourself into a big mess last time, just stay off the alcohol, okay? The rest of the place is yours." Yuffie smiled.  
  
"Hey, no problem. I wanna actually see these guys, not look at blurry images and have to guess what they look like." Tifa laughed. She could always find a positive in any situation if she tried.  
  
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The city lights dimly lit the streetcorners as they walked down the sidewalk. Crono's heart raced in the anticipation of what the night's events may bring him. He forced a question through his lips.  
  
"So, you say this place is crawling with girls, huh?" He asked, while breaking his walking rhythm to kick an aluminum can into the street. Leon nodded.  
  
"Yeah man, it sure is. Good looking ones at that and...hey, we're here." He motioned to the black glass doors. Crono paused, looking at them skeptically.  
  
"It doesn't look like it's crawling with anything." He remarked. Leon smirked and threw open one of the doors, revealing the bar, full of people, with bright flashing lights and loud, loud music. Crono took a deep breath, and with a weak smile on his face, he stepped in.  
  
"Hi, there! Welcome to Seventh Heaven Bar and Club. Will you be staying tonight?" The woman at the counter greeted them. Crono panicked, not sure what to say. This whole environment was a complete shock to his senses. Lucky for him, Leon had already spoken up.  
  
"Hey there, Teef. Yeah, two people checkin' in." She made some small talk with him, and then asked.  
  
"Hey, you. Yeah, I've never seen you around here before. What's your name?"  
  
"Hi, I'm Crono. I'm new in town." She smiled back.  
  
"Hm...new in town and here's where you show up, thanks to Leon here. Corrupting him already, eh Leon?" He laughed his odd laugh, and leaned in closer at her not-so-subtle signal. "He won't have any trouble finding someone here." Leon looked back at her slyly, but she turned to Crono again. "So," she said, motioning to his hair, "are those real?" He nodded, and then he and Leon walked past the coat-check area, and into the club.  
  
"I was just about to ask her the same thing." Crono remarked, holding back a grin. Leon laughed hysterically, trying to muffle it sharply with his hand.  
  
"Oh man, you are too cruel! Too cruel! There's like a line of guys from here to Cosmo that would kill each other for her! Only she's like...taken." Crono shrugged.  
  
"Let 'em kill each other then." He apparently wasn't interested in non- single women, and was scanning the room for the pheonomenal women Leon had promised him. After a few moments, Leon returned with two drinks, one of which he handed to Crono.  
  
"So, you see anything you like yet?" Crono nodded.  
  
"Yeah, these people aren't bad. Although most of them are dancing with some guys or whatever." He stated with a frown. Leon chuckled.  
  
"Oh please, man. You look like you could take any loser in this club and turn his ass upside-down. Just go in there and take someone!" He hesitated, still not sure what in fact he should do, but was interrupted when Leon punched him in the shoulder.  
  
"Dude! You see that one over there? The really hot one? Yeah man! She's looking at you! She's looking right at you!" Crono whipped his head around, looking frantically for the woman of which Leon spoke, but couldn't exactly make a distinct figure out, until his friend grabbed the base of his skull, turned his head in the correct direction, and pointed to the girl across the room.  
  
She was standing in the middle of the floor, in a vast sea of partygoers, her left hand at her side, bearing some kind of drink, and her other arm hung down to her legs. She wore an outfit completely composed of purple leather that clung to her body, which traveled from her neck, down to mid- forearm, and stopping just below her chest. Wrapped around her waist was a thin, silver chain that jingled at her side, seductively. Akin to the top half of her, the bottom half was enveloped in the similar purple leather, extending down to her black shoes. Her skin was pale, her features were sharp, and her chin-length, jet black hair fell over her face as she tilted her head to one side, leaving only one visible brown eye gazing straight into his.  
  
The shattering sound of his glass hitting the floor snapped him out of his trance, and back to the place where he was standing. Leon frowned, but assured him,  
  
"Don't worry about it, I got it. Just go over there, man! She's waiting for you!" And with that, he shoved Crono forward, as he went to get a towel.  
  
Crono's legs carried him slowly, cautiously forward, as he approached her. He though he heard Leon shout, 'she isn't gonna bite you, man!' from behind him, but he tried not to let it become a distraction. The girl's dark red lips formed a slight smile as he came closer, close enough for her to bring an open hand to his bare arm. An indescribable feeling swept through him as she moved her warm, smooth hands down his arms, lightly scraping her nails against his skin with each motion. He tried his absolute hardest to stifle the excited trembling his body was experiencing, and tensed all of his muscles up, trying to remain composed. She gripped his hardedned muscles tightly, almost making him wince from the subtle pains. Her little ritual made his mind rise to the point where it could no longer control itself, and he quickly slipped his arms under hers, his fingers lightly carressing the skin on her back.  
  
"Hi." He said with a smile of mild disbelief. There still was a considerable distance between them, which she quickly diminished, arching her upper body outward, so that she pressed into him, making him want to explode through the roof of the building, even more so than before. He swallowed hard, sweat starting to form on his forehead.  
  
"Hey there." She responded with her tiny smile. "See anything you like? Or are you not done shopping...?" He froze under her question. What was she getting at? Was she here for the same reason he was?  
  
"Well, whatever I've got here certainly looks promising..." He grinned, yet deep down he was terribly confused, and stricken with nervousness. What was he supposed to do next? Would he maybe take things too far? What the hell was he even doing here? In all of his stalling to think, the girl apparently was sick of waiting for him, and set her glass down on the bartop, still not breaking contact with Crono. She turned back to him, and further closed the gap between them, slowly raising her face toward his. Before the last few inches were gone, he pulled back just enough for him to state.  
  
"You...you don't even know who I am..." She looked at him, questioningly, as if she wasn't sure why that was important.  
  
"I don't really care who you are...as long as you stay right here." She retorted, continuing her advance. Crono sighed. He might as well go along with it, knowing she had no visible qualms about it. Besides, he didn't really feel like restraining himself anymore. He remained still, as she crashed into him ever so slowly, and shivered from head to toe as her tounge darted back and forth in his mouth. Before long, he felt a fist lightly bump his shoulder.  
  
"Way to go dude!" Leon's voice hissed, as he passed by, trying not to interrupt his friend's progress. Sure enough, she pulled her face away.  
  
"Heh, what was that about?" She inquired. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Oh, just some moral support." He said with a small laugh. She scanned the room with her eyes before looking back into his.  
  
"Hey, let's go back there. It's a little crowded out here." She motioned to an unlit, unpopulated corner of the room where only a wall and a chairless table stood. He nodded, and she led him by the hand over to that section of the bar. Instead of turning around to face him directly, she maintained hold of his wrist, and spun around, with her back to the wall. Before she had a chance to pull him close, he stepped forward. His hands took hold of her shoulders and pushed them back against the wooden paneling on the wall. His head turned sideways to the right, and he locked his mouth against hers, absorbing her...every inch of her.  
  
Her touch was so captivating, that he was aware of nothing else in the universe besides it. So much so, that he felt the distinct feeling of being woken up from a dream when he heard his friend's voice come from over his shoulder once again.  
  
"Hey dude, sorry to break things up, but we gotta go. The place closed like five minutes ago." Crono frowned, as he and the girl looked at each other, in a worn-out daze. Leon began to grow impatient, as neither of them moved from their position. "Hey, you can spare each other the goodnight kiss...you've already had a few hundred, alright? We gotta go, man. Now." And with that, he separated them, and pulled Crono towards the door.  
  
"Bye..." Crono mouthed the word to her, feebly. He didn't even know where he was going, or why he was going there...he only was aware of the fact that he was no longer with her. He had to laugh at himself as he wondered just once more:  
  
What could one night in a silly bar do to me?  
  
THE END  
  
part four 


	5. Locking Horns

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, sector 7, 0004 N.C.E. (New Common Era)  
  
She was quiet on the ride home, her mind off in another place, drifting further and further away as she gazed out the window, the gold lights sweeping by the car in their preset line. Perhaps she was drunk, she wondered to herself. No, no she hadn't been drinking anything intoxicating, that was for sure, but something had clouded her judgement to the point where she'd gotten very personal with someone she'd never even seen before. It wasn't like she remembered nothing, in fact, she was well aware of what had happened, but she couldn't remember just what possessed her to touch him. She tried to picture what he looked like in her mind's eye.  
  
She could remember his hair, sweeping up and out in bright red spikes that bounced when he walked. She also could remember his eyes, bright green gems that looked wearily into her's. And...yes, she remembered his chisled arms and the feel of his lips and tongue against her own. Coming to think of it, she remembered absolutely everything about him...except his name. Did he even tell her his name? She distinctly remembered not revealing her name, but had he chosen to do the same? How she now wished that she'd just had one more moment to ask him it...find out where she might see him again. A voice pulled her out of her pensive daze and back into the carseat where she still sat.  
  
"So, did you enjoy your evening?" Cloud asked her from over his shoulder in the driver's seat. She noticed Tifa give her a sly look, and then turn back to her husband, answering the question directed at another.  
  
"Oh yeah, she had quite a good time. She, eh, hit the jackpot, ya might say." Cloud raised an eyebrow, still concentrating on the road.  
  
"Hmm...and when I might say it, what might I mean?" He interrogated. Yuffie squirmed in her seat, dreading what might come of this repartee. Tifa giggled.  
  
"Well, she caught some guy's eye. He was a real looker, too, and new in town. Ah,Yuffie, you lucky girl, you!" She said with pretend jealousy. She was met with a nervous smile from the back seat, and an unintelligible grumble from her husband. "What?" She asked, defensively. Cloud looked at her breifly.  
  
"Great...this is just what she needs..." He whispered with a definite note of irritation in his voice as he guided the vehicle back into the driveway, and removed his key. Before everyone was out of the car, a figure came towards them from the house.  
  
"Hey! Where have you all been? I've been trying to get in touch with you for a while. Something really huge came up, and we gotta talk about it. The city's going crazy, and they wanna hear from you especially." Cid Highwind babbled to Cloud.  
  
"Alright then, everyone inside. Let's sort this thing out, whatever it is." Cloud said in his usual commanding tone of voice that he aquired in stressful moments. Both Yuffie and Tifa smiled and shook their heads. Some things about a person never change.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"So, anyway, it looks like this world...and another one...were just, kinda, slapped together in that huge bitch of a storm we had last night. No one knows why or how anything like that could've happened, but it does explain the sudden rush of new faces into Midgar and the surrounding areas. And, might I mention that a whole buncha wierd buildings and landscapes have been found by reconnasciance agents to the east. Everything has a kind of medieval undertone to it, but they don't appear to be too primitive. They just, as far as we know, live in castles with electric light and running water, but don't have cars or helicopters and so on and so forth." Cid explained, summarizing the reports that the Midgar town council had given him. He paused to rub his left eye. Although the corneal injury was for the most part healed, he still felt a slight imparation of his vision from time to time. Cloud spoke up, puzzled and seemingly nervous.  
  
"Has anyone attempted to politically communicate with the people of this foreign land?" Cid shook his head.  
  
"Nope, all of this information is brand new, right outta the printing press. I came right over when I found out, but you guys weren't here, so I read it a couple times, not sure if I was really seeing what I was seeing, ya know?" They nodded, slowly.  
  
"Does anyone at all have any idea how this happened? Was it like a natural disaster or what?" Tifa inquired from her seat at the wooden kitchen table. Cid sighed, and skimmed the papers once again.  
  
"Well, like I said, no one knows anything conclusive, but some theories have been formed, most of 'em probably by conspiracy nuts." Cloud pressed him for information.  
  
"Well, any kind of clue or lead we can get is helpful at this point. What are they?" Cid forced a laugh, but then began to explain.  
  
"Well, most of the 'thinkers' believe that this is some kinda freak incident involving materia or reactor meltdowns or some crap like that. But a small group or others are suspicious that this is no accident." The little council fell silent. "They think someone...someone really powerful, is behind all of this..." His voice trailed off for a moment, everyone wondering if in fact such a thing was actually possible. "But, of course, these people are all off their rockers, and so are you if ya actually believe it." He laughed, making light of what he'd just said. Meanwhile, Yuffie was deep in thought.  
  
So that's what he meant when they said he was from out of town...  
  
The phone rang, and both men jumped up to answer it, Cid reaching it first.  
  
"Yeah?" He asked. Cloud looked at him, frustrated.  
  
Sure, just come into my house and answer my phone any time you like. He mouthed the words. Cid smiled, but focused on the conversation present in the telephone he held to his ear.  
  
"You want him to what?!" He exclaimed, right as Cloud pryed his fingers from the reciever and took the phone.  
  
"Hello? Yes, this is he...you want me to what?!" He shouted, almost jumping into the air.  
  
"Told you so." Cid remarked.  
  
"Well...um...I suppose I could...yes...tomorrow? Alright then...I'll be there then. Goodbye..." He gently laid the phone back into its silver cradle, and turned back to his wife and friends. "They want me to address the city tomorrow morning!" He said, still in shock. Tifa's eyes widened.  
  
"Hey! That's great! I'm sure you'll do fine." Cloud nodded slowly.  
  
"That's not all. Tonight, our officials are going to meet with whatever authorities exist in the other land, which is called 'Gardea' or something like that. They hope to be able to establish some kind of mutual agreement or peace treaty or something like that. They have officially made contact with that castle, and the residents are eager to meet us."  
  
"Well, if anyone in this place can give a security speech, it's you, pal. You're the man for the job." Cid said, patting him on the shoulder.  
  
"Thanks." Cloud assured him, but on the inside, he worried intensly. This was a situation he'd never been faced with before. Could he actually go through with it?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Their feet touched the concrete and pushed back, picked up, swung forward, and touched the ground again in almost perfect unison as the two men casually walked down the city sidewalks. A great commotion had risen in the public square, and being intrepid young adults, Leon and Crono had decided to investigate. A huge crowd hampered their progression forward, but they were able to push a few people aside, insisting that they were undercover officials, and meant business. What they saw confused them slightly.  
  
At the head of the crowd stood a makeshift stage, and a podium with large black framed speakers and microphone cables tangling around this and that. At the podium stood a man in his mid twenties, of a smaller build, with stiff blonde spikes of hair protruding up from his head. An long weapon handle was visible over his right shoulder, and his right hand was clad in a thick steel armlet that made it appear much larger than it actually was. He looked very impressive to both of them, and had a commanding air of confidence about him, that almost seemed to glow...  
  
"That's Cloud Strife. The big hero around these parts. Him and his friends led this huge fight against ShinRa and Sephiroth back like four years ago. He can be okay, I guess. He's a little rough around the edges, but we owe the guy our lives, so I can forgive him." Leon explained as Crono studied the man. Before too much longer, the man resumed speaking, as he had been for quite some time previously, when Crono and Leon had not been there.  
  
"May I have your attention once again, please. Thank you. As you know, last night, Midgar officials met with the Royal Council of Guardia, composed of King Guardia, his daughter Nadia, and a few of his chief knights. They apparently are greatly interested in a peaceful alliance with our cities, under these strange circumstances that no concrete cause has been found to at this moment. However, they have issued a request to our council. Their kingdom's champion has mysteriously disappeared, and they believe that he may be located in our world. Therefore, they ask that anyone who has seen him tell the authorities, and address him personally. His kingdom is in great need of his power, as it had proved to be a valuable asset to them in previous times of danger. This is his description..." He began. Crono started to sweat. He knew that this was some kind of trap, designed to lure him back into the confining walls of the castle where the guards would ambush him. He had to get out of here, fast, before anyone could see him. He looked around frantically for an exit, but he was encased in people no matter which way he turned. Perhaps no one would notice him...yeah, right.  
  
"He is around the age of twenty, goes by the name of 'Crono', is muscular, tall, and has a very noticable feature. His..."  
  
"Dude! That's you! Cloud! Cloud!! Here he is, right here! This is Crono! Hey!" Leon shouted. Crono tried to stop him, but it was too late. Strife turned his head down toward them, looked at Leon, and then wide- eyed at Crono, and his spiky red hair.  
  
"Oh! Great...will you come up here, please, Mr. Crono." A space in the crowd around him cleared, and he uneasily made his way to the stage, and up the steps. Not visible to him from the crowd, he now noticed the people sitting in chairs behing the podium. Before he had a chance to look at their faces, the one known as Cloud looked him up and down. While doing this, he heard his wife and friend exclaim from behind him.  
  
"Look! Yuffie! That's the guy you met at my bar! He must be the champion of that castle! Hey, he looks even better in the sun..." She whispered not-so-quietly. Cloud's eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
"So you're the good-looking guy everyone's going giggly over, eh?" He said, gruffly, bringing a laugh from the crowd. Crono's cheeks flushed and he looked down at the stage, wishing he could hide in its rough brown surface.  
  
"Am I?" He asked, meekly. Cloud tried to brush his irritations aside, and continue on with his business.  
  
"Anyway, King Guardia and the Princess have requested that you return ASAP, alright? I look forward to doing business with you, Mr. Crono." He stated, although he certainly didn't mean it. He began to speak again, but Crono's voice intercepted his on the way to the microphone.  
  
"Excuse me, but I don't think that's possible for me to do...I am in a bit of a...dispute with the members of the castle. I think it's for the best that I remain here." He said, trying to sound as calm and official as possible. Cloud shook his head.  
  
"I have direct orders to see that you arrive at the castle, and I am not the type to disobey my direct orders, Crono." He remarked, arrogantly. "But, if you feel that your personal safety is at risk, I'd be happy to escort you there." He said with a smile, as Crono raised one eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Get lost somewhere." Crono muttered, turning his back. Cloud was furious, and he said, deliberately close to the microphone,  
  
"What was that, little boy?" Crono stopped in his tracks, and turned around slowly, an "ooh" rising from the crowd as he sauntered forward.  
  
"Oh no..." Tifa said, turning the other way. She'd hoped Cloud would never lock horns with another "hero"...  
  
"Personally, I think the only 'little' person here is you." He retorted, the crowd rising to full attention. Cloud stepped into fighting range, and brandished the handle of his huge sheathed sword over his shoulder. He wasn't going to let this young punk break his rules anyday. He looked dead at him.  
  
Don't make me use this, pal...  
  
Crono looked down his nose at the sword, mockingly. "Well, thats a pretty big sword ya got there. You wouldn't happen to be compensating for something with it, would you?" At this point, Strife could no longer let this boy make a fool of him in front of his city, his followers. He slipped his weapon out of it's scabbard in a dangerously smooth motion, and brought it before him, menacingly. Crono jumped back, but drew his own weapon at the same time. Then he stepped forward again, waving his katana in the blonde's face.  
  
"Yeah! Ooh, look Mr. tough guy! I gotta sword too, only it's able to be weilded by normal humans, not Storm Giants. See? See? Wooo!" Cloud grimaced at the challenge, and with a heft, he swung his blade clear through where Crono's katana was, knocking it far off the stage, and into the street behind it. In the split second between the time the katana left his loose grip, and the time he had to react, Cloud slashed out in a short arch, catching Crono in the chest, and knocking him back in shock.  
  
The crowd gasped as Crono blinked his eyes, and brought a hand to the shallow, yet symbolic wound. The blood soaked through the fabric of his shirt, and he sat, under the furious gaze of this world's hero, and the startled crowd, that was probably just itching to see their hero cream this loser from out of town. He ground his teeth, and rolled backward onto his feet, rising up, knees bent, and his hands open and out at both sides. Cloud smiled, visciously. Was this unarmed kid going to step up?  
  
"Teach him a lesson, Crono." A girl stood up behind Cloud. She was obscured, but Crono recognized her voice right away. She was the mysterious young woman he'd met the other night. A comfort filled him when he realized that she was near, but his designated "opponent" only smirked wider.  
  
"Yeah, teach me a lesson, Crono."  
  
"Oh, Cloud...what the hell are you doing?!" Another familiar female voice rose from behind him. Cloud's hand's tightened around his weapon, and he waited for Crono to strike, which was a huge mistake. Crono relaxed his body, giving the impression that he was not ready to attack, which caused Cloud to loosen his guard somewhat. The instant he saw Cloud relax in a similar fashion, his arm whipped out, knuckes cracking sharply against the blonde's face. Crono grinned triumphantly.  
  
"You gotta watch that, man." He advised his flustered "enemy." Cloud refocused, and swung hard in rage, hard enough to cleave Crono in half, had he not dropped straight down to evade it. Barely cutting into Crono's back, it skimmed over him, and straight into one of the huge speakers that stood near the far corners of the stage. Deafening feedback came from what was left of the Public Address system, and Cloud's weapon was lodged deep in the side of it. Now unarmed as well, Strife turned back to face Crono, who was laughing his head off, and not at all looking foolish like he'd intended.  
  
Cloud tightened his armlet, and then swung it backhand, slamming straight into the side of Crono's laughing face. Although not a felling blow, it made him stagger, and turn the other way, bracing against a chair for support. This had gone too far, and Cloud was out of his mind to think Crono was going to obey his loud commands. Whirling around, he sprang into the air, his left leg outstretched and stiff. In a perfect spin, his heel collided with Cloud's temple, sending him down to the stage.  
  
When Crono landed, three others were on the stage with them, trying to stop Cloud from attacking as he rose to his feet once again. Their efforts were foiled when he pushed through them, and Crono ran forward at the same time. They slammed into each other, gripping the others' shirt with one hand, and punching furiously with the other. Battering each other like mortal enemies, they caused everyone else to stop and think about what exactly was going on. These two men were fighting over pride, and nothing more. In a time of great importance, their ego's took control, clouding the bigger issues.  
  
"STOP IT!!" Tifa shouted, at the top of her lungs. The two combatatants froze in mid-strike. "You two are up here beating the life out of each other over some stupid egotistical garbage! Cloud! You're supposed to be giving a confidence speech to your people, not slugging it out over some bitter words! And you, Crono! You're supposed to be representing your homeland, not fighting with the representative of ours!" She ranted, making them feel like a couple of idiots, which was understandable. They released each other, and stepped back, forming a somewhat comfortable distance between them. She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, lets get some doctors up here, take care of these 'manly' inuries."  
  
Crono looked down and wandered over toward one of the empty chairs at the end of the stage. The crowd was now beginning to leave, at Tifa's demand. They had already had their show, and it was about as comforting to them as barbed wire. On his way over, the blonde man in the leather jacket with the flight visor stopped to talk with Crono.  
  
"Hey, that was a helluva fight. You've got some pretty wicked moves on ya." He said, dragging on his cigar.  
  
"Thanks." Crono muttered. He sat down in the chair, and tried to ignore the pain in his chest. It was only the other day that he'd had half of the flesh on his upper body scraped off by a collision with a tree, and the pain still remained, only more intense now. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping he could meditate and bring himself some relief. Before he quieted his mind completely, he felt someone touch his shoulder. His eyes snapped open to find the familiar girl in the chair next to him. Her hair was not done up quite as perfectly, and she only wore a simple black outfit, but he still thought she was beautiful. Her big amber eyes brought a tired smile to his lips.  
  
"I'm Yuffie Kisaragi." She stated, like he'd asked her the question. Logically the correct response was:  
  
"I'm Crono."  
  
"I know!" She replied, and then burst into laughter. Crono was puzzled...he didn't know why this was so funny to her, but soon found himself laughing too. Perhaps he was just glad to be with her.  
  
Either this is all a sick joke, or I'm in love with this girl...  
  
He sighed.  
  
Maybe both...  
  
THE END  
  
part five 


	6. The Mercenary

ADVERSARY  
  
Guardia Castle, 1004 A.D.  
  
The general murmur produced by the individual conversations of the royal council members filled the stone chamber as the monarch and his daughter awaited the arrival of the last few delegates. It was a crisp fall day, the autumn season in its very prime, turning the leaves on the Great Sequoias outside the castle brilliant colors. The cool breezes blowing gently through the open windows served as a fortunate calming agent for those representatives with tempers known to flare up during the stifling summer meetings, when water became a precious commodity. At last, King Guardia brought his gavel down on the large oaken table, creating an authoritive "crack" that rang out through the chamber, silencing the delegates.  
  
"Now then," He began, after taking a small drink of water and clearing his throat. "This meeting of the Guardian Royal Council will now commence. Chancellor, the agenda, if you will." The Chancellor bowed and lifted his paper, placing it in the King's right hand. "All right, the first order of business listed here is the absence of our kingdom's former champion, and present public enemy, Crono." He paused, looking over at his daughter, who was staring off into space, with a look of detest and hurt on her face. "Although his whereabouts are unknown, we know he has fled across the border to the city of Midgar, for he was sighted there by many. However, we believe that we do have some clout against him." He paused again, letting the intrigued voices linger slightly.  
  
"We were able to apprehend his friend Lucca, and she is currently being held in the dungeon, under maximum security. I, and many of my advisors agree, that this is a move that could definitely draw Crono back, to a point where we may bring him into custody, and...deal with him from there." Before the king had even finished the word "there", there was an uproar of questions, protests, cheers, and shouts that made him cover an ear with one hand, and pound the gavel once again with the other. "Silence! Please, I will address each of you in due time! Captain? You may speak." The knight captain stood up, bowing slightly to the king.  
  
"Thank you, your highness. Now sir, with all due respect, you know what happened the last time we attempted to arrest Crono. It was a total disaster! It may have cost both you and your daughter's lives! Crono may be young, but he is more powerful that anything we have within the walls of the entire castle!!" The captain shouted, loudly, but in a still- respectful manner. Another official nodded and stood up.  
  
"He is correct, your excellency. Attacking him with our military forces would most likely be successful, but would surely result in the deaths of many fine officers. There is nothing we can throw at him that he won't hand us back in three pieces!" The king looked pensive, and then rose from his seat, nodding to both council members, asking them to sit back down.  
  
"Well, then, it has come to my attention that the general consensus is that we are helpless against this...boy. This...peasant that defeated Lavos in the future, and then courted my own daughter, proving to be unfaithful, saying the least. Members of the council, this is exactly why I called this meeting. I have found a man, who has chosen to remain nameless at the moment, but claims he has the power to destroy anything! He says that he would be more that obliged to assist us in capturing Crono. And, judging by his appearance, I do so believe he could be the man for the job." He stated, gleefully. The room fell silent, wondering what was actually going on here. Was the "good king" going to hire an assassin to kill their former champion over some issues between he and the princess? Could they actually let their land's reputation be tarnished by such an act? Perhaps they should at least meet with this man first, and then make their final decision.  
  
The great wooden doors at the end of the room, braced with steel bolts, slowly opened, and revealed what lay behind them. A hazing mist flowed into the room eerily, clouding the representatives' view of whoever it was in the doorway. The mist continued to seep into the room and evaporate, yet no figure emerged from the fog. The king began to feel the nervousness rising within him.  
  
"Sir? Are you there?" He called. Some of the delegates chuckled, hearing the king address someone as "sir", yet they still awaited the answer. A rich, powerful voice soared from the doorway, through the entire room.  
  
"Oh, was this my cue? Well, perhaps we could have cleared this up earlier." From the huge arched door, came a sight that struck both fear and awe into the hearts of those in the room. Standing over seven feet tall, made of solid muscle, and possessing long, thick strands of glistening silver hair, was the most impressive man they had ever laid eyes on. His black jacket was partially open, revealing some of his upper torso, and his arms were masked in thick leather gloves. Black cloth pants extended down to his tall leather boots, and at his side, was a thin, but cold and deadly sword, that seemed as long as a full-grown human. His pale green eyes looked condescendingly upon the room, and the council, including the king and his daughter.  
  
"Will you have a seat, Mr., I'm sorry, what was your name again?" The king inquired, trying not to seem intimidated by the man's presence.  
  
"Sephiroth." He stated, and then took a seat beside the king and princess. He couldn't help but notice the blonde girl's huge blue eyes, gazing longingly at him. She cautiously put her hand on top his, and said in her most seductive voice:  
  
"I'm Princess Nadia." She tilted her head to the side, and bounced her hair playfully with one hand, waiting for his reaction. Sure enough, he turned toward her, and leaned in close, a chilling smile on his lips.  
  
"Well then, Princess Nadia, would you be so kind, and do me a favor?" he asked her, most persuasively. The Chancellor pulled at his collar, not sure what to do.  
  
"You just name it." She said, earnestly.  
  
"Don't...ever...touch me again." He hissed, and he leaned back into his chair, and pulled his hand out from under hers. "Now then, gentlemen. I understand that we were going to be doing some sort of business today? Some runaway hero you want rubbed out, I hear. Well, before we begin, perhaps I should state that I do not work for free." The king nodded.  
  
"Oh yes. Our treasury has got quite a surplus built up in it. We'll be happy to more than compensate you for your efforts." He made an offer that would drive most men to their knees with delight. Instead, Sephiroth shook his head slowly.  
  
"No, Guardia. Not money. I have no need for it." The monarch and his advisors exchanged panicked looks.  
  
"Well then, Sir Sephiroth, what can we give you as payment for your services?" A small, wicked grin formed on his face.  
  
"I want land. Land and rescources, completely free of your taxation and authority." He answered, coolly. The chancellor was outraged.  
  
"You want what? Sire, this is ridiculous! Handing over our beautiful land and resources to a strange man in exchange for Crono? Preposterous! Insane!" Sephiroth shrugged.  
  
"If you don't want to make the deal, then you'll just have to get rid of Crono yourself." He stated, and he started to stand up.  
  
"No! Sir, please. I'd be happy to grant you a fief as large as you like. We are in great need of your assistance." Again Sephiroth shook his head.  
  
"No, Guardia. Not a fief. Land completely independent of you or your kingdom." He said in the same tone of voice. The king looked doubtful for a moment, and turned to his advisors, who shot him back the same confused look. Should he really do this? Could he trust this man? "I grow impatient, Guardia. Make your decision now." He demanded.  
  
"Alright! Alright! I will forfeit a portion of land in exchange for Crono. Alive." Sephiroth nodded slowly.  
  
"Good. I will bring him to you alive. Barely..." He muttered as he left the room. Again the king called him.  
  
"Sir! Don't you need his description and all of his information? You're going into this completely blind!"  
  
"I don't need any of your help, Guardia. Leave this to me, and me alone." He slammed the doors behind him, making everyone jump, relieved of his presence. For a good ten minutes, no one had any idea what to say. Sephiroth's visit had left them tongue-tied, and had pretty much adjourned the meeting with his departure. Finally, Nadia broke the silence, rising from her chair, adressing the council.  
  
"Personally, I don't know why you're all so impressed with him. He's nothing but a tall guy in pressed clothing. I doubt we'll ever see him again." and with that, she turned on her heel, and left the room, eyes following her out the door. The chancellor groaned.  
  
I hope you're right...  
  
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A groan of tedium escaped her throat as she lay on the inhumane excuse for a bed that they'd provided her. It'd been three days, and about eight hours that they'd kept her in this ungodly cell. Four sweltering, stifling days, and three dank, frigid nights she'd been through so far, and she had no idea when she'd ever see the outside world again. The princess ignored her pleas, her cries, her repeated attempts at explanation. Everything she'd said was met with commands to silence herself and listen to a royal tirade. Throughout these three and half days, she'd come to lose all respect for the princess, and her father, and her castle, their prison system, their prison guards, and their linens and bedding. All she could think about was a potential way to escape (which was hard to do, unarmed), and where in the hell her friends were, and why none of them had come to her assistance.  
  
C'mon Lucca...use your head...there's gotta be a way out...there's always a way out...you're just not thinking right...calm down...  
  
She rose up and paced around the eight-square-foot cell, avoiding the mold and revolting water that dripped from the kitchen above, through the pipes and ceiling, and finally into her cell. Lucca began examing everything in her cell, once again. She desperately searched for a loose brick, and hole in the wall, a loose bar in the door, a small piece of metal that could be used as a lockpick, anything that could put her one step closer to freedom.  
  
Yet she still found nothing.  
  
In a rage, she kicked the cement block walls, repeatedly, to the point where her left foot pounded with agony, and she was forced to sit back down, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.  
  
"This is insane. I'm not even guilty of anything...well, no, I'm sorry, I am guilty. Guilty of helping a friend. I wish someone had told me that it was a crime to help your friends...I would just have let his dumb ass lay there bleeding...ugh." She threw herself back onto the wooden "mattress".  
  
"I can't belive this anyway...doesn't he know I'm missing? Doesn't he remember the time I didn't think twice about risking my own life to bust him outta this same stupid prison?"  
  
"Don't you ever shut up? I mean, really." The hated voice came from the opposite side of the prison bars. She calmed herself with a deep breath before turning to face her once-called friend.  
  
"I bet you're just loving this..." Lucca whispered grimly. The princess raised one penciled eyebrow.  
  
"No, actually I'd enjoy it more if you wouldn't run off with my boyfriends." She smirked. Spiting the pain in her foot, Lucca struggle over to the bars, glaring into Nadia's face.  
  
"One of these days, someone is going to put you in your place...you watch...and then you'll be so sorry you ever mistreated anyone!" The inventor hissed, instantly bringing a mocking laugh from the monarch's daughter.  
  
"Right, I'm truly frightened, Lucca, truly frightened. I'll be more careful. In fact, I'll be so careful, I'll take away your rations for the next...two days! Thanks for the advice Lucca! See you later!" she cackled in her sugary voice as she skipped out of the room. In pure hatred, Lucca ripped and tore at the steel bars, rattling them, desperatly trying to shake them from their hinges, but to no avail. Sick with anger, and filled with hopelessness, she sank down to her knees, still clutching the bars.  
  
God...let me out of here...please...let me out...help...me...  
  
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The wind whipped through his hair and his stomach turned in the sudden losses and gains of gravity as he hurtled through the air, and descended back down again. The constant onward rush of air made it awkward for him to keep his eyes open, but the incredible thrill of the whole experience made his discomfort seem trivial. So this was the feeling Leon was always raving about. This was the thing he'd claimed walking from Midgar to Cosmo Canyon was worth. Not that Crono actually knew what Cosmo Canyon was, or where it was in relation to Midgar, but he was sure that it would be worth it.  
  
The wheels on his skateboard stopped rolling as he pounded his foot down on the pavement, becoming a human brake. He gasped and panted, having been "boarding" for over four hours, but still he could not wait to get right back up on the ramp and fly again.  
  
"Woah, man...take it easy. I don't feel like picking you up after you pass out in the air." Leon cautioned him as he started to mount his skateboard again. "I'm gettin' totally beat anyway, dude. Let's pack it in for a day, okay?" Crono frowned.  
  
"Ah, okay. Just one more run at it then." He took off before his friend could object, pushing as hard and fast as he could with his left leg. Back into the half pipe he bolted, cutting straight up the side, and spinning completely around before dropping back in. His martial arts skills definitely helped him in terms or speed, balance, dexterity, and raw endurance. Yet despite however physically primed he was, he still did not have the necessary experience to complete the actions he was attempting to complete. With an overstep, he missed landing on his board completely, and promptly smacked into the side of the ramp, skidding down its rough wooden surface, bolts and all.  
  
"Ugh..." He grunted as he rolled over on his back, the midday sun blinding his eyes. As he lay, trying to ease the pain of his injuries by not moving a muscle, he noticed something looming over him, blocking out some of the sunlight. It was a large, dark shape, then there were two shapes, one much larger than the other.  
  
"Is this what people do around here for fun? Throw their own bodies into crude wooden structures?" A voice answered. Who was that? It sounded so familiar. Then someone laughed, and Crono could tell that it was Leon after thinking for a moment, but he had no idea who the other person was.  
  
"No, dude. Crono here just took a little spill. You'll be alright, won't ya?"  
  
"Unnnh...yea..." Crono moaned, trying to agree, and trying to ignore the stars in front of his eyes. In an instant, two strong arms pulled him upward, and set him on his wobbly feet. When the blurry, bright colors in his eyes cleared, they were hit with a very startling image. A pale white face with sunken red eyes and high cheekbones, draped with frosty blue hair hung before him, his large gloved hand on Crono's shoulder. "Magus!" He exclaimed in shock.  
  
"Hello, comrade. It seems like I came at a bad time." He smirked at the tears in Crono's clothing, and the friction burns on his arms.  
  
"Yea, well...He's learning, blue dude...but, eh, what's up? You came from Guardia for a reason, right? Or are you just here to watch Crono screw up on a vert ramp?" Magus glared at Leon.  
  
"I am Magus. That is what you are to call me, if you insist on calling me anything. I have a reason for everything I do and no, I'm not here to watch you injure yourselves." He said through gritted teeth. Leon's eyes widened, and he stepped back quite a distance.  
  
"Hey, hey, calm down there, big guy...er...Magus. I was just funnin' with ya..." The mage grumbled.  
  
"Well don't. Anyway...I need your help, Crono." The dazed young man cocked his head to the side and looked at him, confused.  
  
"Eh? My help? With what?" Magus looked deep into his eyes, almost creepily, making Crono quite uncomfortable.  
  
"It's about Lucca. She's in danger. I hear her in my dreams...she's crying out, begging for help...trapped somewhere...for something she's not at fault for. What do you think it means? Where is she?" Crono's face froze, stricken with terror. "What? What's going on? Where is she, Crono?" He demanded. Crono shook his head, his body shaking.  
  
"Oh...no..." He murmured. Magus was on the brink of insanity.  
  
"WHAT? What happened?! Where is Lucca??" Leon piped up.  
  
"Um...Magus? I think he'd be able to answer you a little better if you'd stop shaking him like that...just a suggestion?" Magus sighed, and pushed the gathering sweat off of his forehead.  
  
"Listen to me Crono. This is very important. Where is she?" he asked, stretching each word out, obnoxiously. Crono grabbed a thick spike of his hair and squeezed it tight, releasing some tension.  
  
"Oh my god...I forgot all about her...ever since I've been here...so much has happened...and...I forgot all about my best friend! Magus! She's probably locked up in Guardia Castle somewhere!"  
  
"What? Why in the hell would she be locked up in Guardia Castle!?" He screamed. The young man ran his hands down his face, struck dumb with reality.  
  
"She...was treating a wound I had in the forest, when Marle comes along and sees her doing it, and thinks we're having some bizarre affair, and runs away into the castle. Next think I know, I totally forgot about Lucca, and I'm chasing after Marle, trying to explain, and she cries to her father to have me and Lucca locked up...and...well...I lost it." Magus looked at him, crossly.  
  
"You lost it?" He asked. Crono nodded, sheepishly.  
  
"I took the king and Marle hostage so that the guards wouldn't attack me, and I would up cornered by a window on the top floor of the castle spire. Next thing I know, I'm knocking out a guard with a chair, and I'm jumping out the window, climbing up onto the roof, and this huge storm hits...and then the rest is history." Magus wasn't satisfied.  
  
"She saw Lucca treating your wounds, and she went berserk? That's not very plausible to me, Crono." The Kensai looked down.  
  
"Well, y'know...I wasn't wearing a shirt, and she was on my legs, rubbing my chest, and...well...it felt pretty good...soo...uh..." At this point Leon was laughing so hard, Magus couldn't hear himself think, let alone Crono speak.  
  
"Oh, dude! That is so rich! I can't believe it! That's too funny! Man, you musta felt like-" Magus was seconds away from strangling him to death.  
  
"Will you shut your mouth?! I'm trying to concentrate, idiot!" Leon became instantly quiet, minus the brief, but extremely sincere apology he babbled.  
  
"If she's in prison, Magus, then we've gotta help her! There might not be time!" Crono stated. Magus agreed.  
  
"We'll assemble a small infiltration group, penetrate the castle, and escape with Lucca."  
  
"Well, I'm sure as hell going, you will too...and that leaves..." Crono plotted.  
  
"Count me in, man! I want some action too!" Leon begged. Magus scoffed at his plea.  
  
"You? I wouldn't trust you with a pizza delivery, let alone a prison break." He looked down at his shoes, and then back up at Crono's face.  
  
"How about it, bro? I can fight, really good too. I got these, see?" He brandished his metallic hands, making light fists, and putting them up in front of him. Magus scowled in disgust, but Crono looked on in interest. He'd been wondering what Leon's hands could do for a while, and he'd sure hate leaving a great weapon behind. Disregarding Magus' opinion, he said,  
  
"Alright, you can come. But don't bite off more than you can chew. Be careful out there." He advised. Leon made a face, and waved his hand, dismissively.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine, you'll see." He said, directly to Magus, who was still glaring at him.  
  
"Fine, you just better not get in my way." He threatened, menacingly. "Alright then, let's get going. We have to hurry. Every second we waste is one second closer to Lucca's death." He stated, and he moved onward, fully expecting them to follow, which they did. Making sure Magus could not hear him, Leon asked Crono,  
  
"Dude, isn't like every second we waste one second closer to everyone's death?" Crono didn't respond, he just grinned subtley. He knew better than to test Magus' nerves too much.  
  
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The evening autumn blusters threw the long strands of grass this way and that as the three men trudged onward. They new they had a mission to accomplished, and they knew it had to be completed in a certain amount of time, for the life of one of their dearest friends was potentially in danger. The only problem with the whole situation, was that none of them knew exactly how to execute their plan, if you could even call their idea a "plan." Their idea was relatively simple: they were to infiltrate one of most heavily guarded buildings in the world, locate and liberate an imprisoned person (who's location was unknown to them at the time), and safely escape from the castle, making the journey back to Midgar, undetected. To say the least, they were slightly nervous about the night's events. Attempting to keep everyone calm, Leon would always keep a conversation going with one of his other party members.  
  
"So, if you're like a wizard from four hundred years ago, what are you doing here in Guardia, year 1004...and how the hell did you get into Midgar?" To his surprise, Magus actually responded in somewhat of a civil manner.  
  
"Ever since the battle with Lavos, which I'm sure Crono has raved endlessly to you about, I've been searching..." he trailed off, cryptic, as he was known to often do.  
  
"Searching? For what?"  
  
"For a person that once meant a lot to me, and still does. I've searched for years...on different worlds, in different times...even in different plains of existance."  
  
"Plains of existance? Speak, like, in languages I can understand, man." Magus smiled, coldly, staring off at the tiny castle in the distance.  
  
"Well, the known universe is made up of different plains. Each plain is like a little universe of it's own, and there's so many of them...it makes one realize just how insignificant he is...yet how significant he is at the same time..." Leon held his head in confusion.  
  
"Woah...headache...anyway, how were you like, able to time travel and shit? That's like...totally impossible." Magus nodded.  
  
"I know...yet I've been able to do it. Let's just call it a little 'gift' I have." Leon shrugged,and continued walking.  
  
"Okay, suits me fine. So, Crono...you gonna ask that Yuffie chick out?" He pressed. Crono smiled, nervously, and he rolled is head from side to side, stretching out the muscles in his neck.  
  
"Well...I dunno...maybe..." He thought, aloud. Why was Leon picking now of all times to put him on the spot about something? Magus cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"Oh? Not wasting any time, are we Crono?" he chuckled. Crono flushed.  
  
"Now, hey, just a minute. I didn't say-"  
  
"Yea, boy! That's what I like to hear! Don't waste no time, dive right back in! Go for the big fish! Shoot for the-"  
  
"Hey! Cut that out! I didn't say anything! I've still gotta think about it...ya know...'plastic bag'. Remember?" He reasoned. Leon shot a sidelong look at him.  
  
"Yeah, I remember, dude...but...this is different. You've really got something good going for ya...don't blow it now, man! The chick digs you!" Crono's hand rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes darted back and forth.  
  
"Yeah...I guess..." He stopped talking, and brough on a long period of silence which took them from their current position all the way to the great forests that surrounded the castle. Perhaps the silence was appropriate, because, although they acknowledged that their mission was risky, they had no idea that their actions would mean so much more than just whether they lived or died...  
  
THE END  
  
part six 


	7. Mission: Improbable

ADVERSARY  
  
Guardia Castle, 1004 A.D.  
  
Young Sir Maxwell gripped the leather-strapped handle of his steel-tipped spear as Leene's bell rang in his ears. He sighed as the chimes marked nine o' clock sharp, calling for a change of the castle guard. It had been another long shift of waiting...and waiting...for nothing. An extremely capable young man such as himself should not be confined to manning the wooden doors of the castle for hours, letting the occassional messenger through. Where was the action he was promised by the Knight Captain? When would he get the chance to prove that he was willing to defend the kingdom at all costs? He was indeed patient, and very dedicated at that, but sometimes the monotony of his job got to him. It consisted of a lot of standing around, protecting an inanimate object, and recieving regular commendations from the Captain about "what a good job" he'd been doing. As it turned out, and untrained dog could've done it just as well, which made him feel very valuable indeed.  
  
He rolled his eyes and turned towards the great doors, fishing through his pockets for the key. He had just inserted the jagged metal into the rusting iron lock, when he heard the voice of a stranger behind him.  
  
"Aloha, dude! How's the guarding tonight?" Maxwell spun around to face the visitor, startled at his sudden presence.  
  
"Who goes there!?" He shouted. A young man was standing about three feet away from him in the dim pool of light, cast down from the electric torches on the castle roof. He had odd blonde hair, and wore very strange clothing to be from this area.  
  
"Woah, calm down." The man held up his hands, revealing that no weapon was in them, yet also revealing their odd metallic shine. Maxwell's eyes bulged in shock.  
  
"Who are you!? What business do you have here, sneaking up on me like that!?" He shreiked, shaking the point of the spear in the young man's face. The visitor smirked.  
  
"Well, I just wandered over and decided that I was gonna inform you that your ass has an appointment with the floor in about...oh...five seconds?"  
  
"What are you talking about, stranger? You speak in an odd tongue! Wha...what's going on h-...ungh!!" He was silenced as the intruder smashed his hard, cold fist into his chin, splitting the skin on his face to the crushed bone, and sending his body straight into the rough stone wall of the castle.  
  
"Hah! Out like a sucker." He though he heard the man say. His closed eyes were blinded by a sea of white stars flashing as they flew through his head. Although his face was completely numb, he could feel the blood dripping from his chin, and soaking into his royal blue uniform. Whoever that strange intruder was, he was extremely dangerous, and Maxwell knew he had to alert the others...but how? He couldn't see straight, let alone see much of anything, and his body felt like it had been crushed under a boulder, leaving him crippled and broken.  
  
He tried to make his eyes focus, tried to keep them open long enough to absorb an image, so that he might have an idea what was going on. The guard had to move his aching head from side to side in order to control which direction he was looking in. Catching a brief glimpse, he could only tell that his assailant was standing over him, staring at him, with an obvious frown on his face.  
  
"I can't believe it...you're still awake. Like, no one takes a Leon Special and isn't drooling and unconscious before they hit the ground. My aim musta been off." Maxwell mustered his strength, and was able to get out a few barely intelligible words.  
  
"Youuu...inthruderr...youu wonn gat uwway wit thishh..." Leon rolled his eyes.  
  
"Sure, sure, that's what they all say. Now hold up, ya won't feel a thing." He brought his steely hand to the squirming guard's neck, and squeezed the area between his throat and shoulder, sending the body into short convulsions.  
  
Maxwell felt the nerves in his shoulder overload with intense pain and stimulation, and he slowly blacked out, feeling a lot of pain indeed, much to the contrary of what his assailant had promised him.  
  
"Oh yea, waiter, check the tab on phase one, I believe you'll find it marked 'Complete' under 'Alazane'! Hahaha! Go Leon! Go Leon!" He whispered to himself in somewhat-silent victory, as he dragged the body out of sight, preparing for the next stage of the plan.  
  
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The reflections of the dim lights shone in the polished wood on the table, she noticed, as her cloth squeaked and dragged along the sparkling surface of another clean glass. It was two hours to opening, and she was preparing early like she did every Friday night. She knew Yuffie was the most stressed out of the two of them, though, having developed an instant liking for a new face from out of town. And so she sat, her foot tapping anxiously against the counter, creating a constant "thud" that reverberated throughout the empty bar.  
  
"So...y'think he might come in tonight?" She asked for the fourth time today. Tifa smiled and shook her head, her raven hair falling over her shoulders.  
  
"Hmm...if he's got the guts to face you in front of everyone after the spectacle you two made of yourselves last week." Yuffie frowned.  
  
"Well, gawd, Teef! People kiss! It ain't that strange." Tifa looked over at her, slyly.  
  
"People usually have a conversation before they make out like teenagers in public." Just like the last three times, she looked down at her feet, ashamed of last week's hasty actions on her part.  
  
"I...I know...it was a little quick...I just..."  
  
"A-ha! So you admit it!" Tifa shouted, out of the blue.  
  
"Admit what?" Yuffie was unsure of what Tifa was getting at.  
  
"That you jumped right in, went right for it. Skipped the greetings and went right for the tongues, eh? You little ninja, you!"  
  
"Well...I dunno. It was weird. It's like, for a few hours I was just there, watching everyone party, watching all these couples dancing and having fun...and I just felt so lost and outta place. And then, just, like kind of a coincidence, I see this guy walk in, and he's got this shy look on his face, like he feels just as lost as I do, like maybe he understands what it's like to be the odd one out. And well, so, I just stare at the guy, not sure what he'll do, expecting all these little blondes and brunettes to swarm all over him and that skater kid he came with. But then, it was like someone answered a prayer of mine, and he walked right over to me! Tifa, his friend just pointed him at me! Of all people! And then, well...you know the rest. But it felt so right, Tifa, it felt so right. I didn't feel, y'know, like some slut...I felt so comfortable with him. I just looked into those...beautiful...green...eyes, and saw his nervous smile...and I could've died..." Her eyes got that glassy look in them, and she stared of into space. Tifa laughed and tossed her head back, setting the last glass back into the rack.  
  
"Well, I can understand. I feel that way about Cloud too...although sometimes I wish he'd just shut up and hold me, instead of acting all tough about it. But I love the guy to death, I really do." Yuffie nodded.  
  
"Y'see, Teef, in those few minutes we spent just looking at each other, we said more than we could've said in hours of conversations...do you get what I'm saying?" Tifa leaned over the countertop, looking the girl in the eyes.  
  
"Yuffie, plain and simple, you're my best friend. I totally understand you, and I'm really happy you met someone like Crono, someone good for a change." They laughed, remembering Mick and the other sleazes, cons, and downright losers she'd flirted with in the past.  
  
"I really hope I see him again soon, Teef. I hope he shows up tonight...although...wait...didn't your husband say he was gonna be here too?" She groaned. Tifa laughed.  
  
"Yeah, he might pop in, just to make sure that everything's 'A'ok!', and hopefully not pick another fight with Crono. But they talked a little bit after the scrap, I made 'em realize what idiots they were, although I doubt they'll be close friends anytime soon."  
  
"Yeah...speaking of that fight...did you see those moves Crono knew? He's like an expert or something! He just like, outta nowhere pulls this Dtuiyu Yup Chaki, while spinning around, and lands it perfectly! I couldn't believe it!" Yuffie marvled at his skill, dreamily, while Tifa looked at her blankly.  
  
"Deetooyo Yap what? You say that like I know what the heck it is! There you go again with your 'traditional technique names'." She rambled. Yuffie held up her hands.  
  
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry. That 'flying side kick' he pulled." Tifa looked content.  
  
"That's better. And, yeah, it was pretty amazing. Cloud still has headaches from time to time." She giggled.  
  
"I've never seen Cloud so damned viscious before. I mean, sure he's gotten angry, but even when he was fighting Sephiroth, he was still composed and focused. The other day he was like some pissed-off caveman! And it was over stupid crap, too." Yuffie pondered. Tifa agreed.  
  
"Yeah, well, they pull some stunt like that again, and we'll just have to give them both an ass-whooping they'll never forget." She grinned. Yuffie slapped her hand down on the counter.  
  
"You can say that again, sister! Say, can I get a refill on this soda?"  
  
"Sure thing." her friend answered, putting the empty glass under the spigot. Yuffie began tapping her foot against the bar again, obviously something on her mind.  
  
"I wonder where he is right now..." She started.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Crono. I wonder what he's up to just about now. Probably training...or meditating. Yeah, something like that. He's gotta be such a dedicated martial artist..."  
  
"Or, knowing Leon, they're most likely either skateboarding in the park, surfing at the beach, sleeping one off, or making mischeif somewhere. Most likely the last one." Yuffie was surprised.  
  
"Crono? Getting into trouble with Leon? Nah, I doubt it." She assured herself. Tifa smiled and shook her head once again. Whatever she said was going to go in one ear, and out the other.  
  
"Well, I guess we'll just find out then, won't we?"  
  
"Yeah, you're right. I should stop stressing out over it. After all, I will see him again." She reasoned. Tifa clapped her hands.  
  
"Thank you for finally realizing that. I was afraid I'd have to employ the rubber mallet." She laughed. Yuffie grinned, embarrassed, yet she kept wondering.  
  
Geeze...I really wonder where he is...what he does with his time...ah, well. It's midday, he's probably relaxing somewhere...  
  
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A grunt of frustration passed through his lips as he buckled down and threw his left arm up, feeling for another space in the stones on the wall. Although he'd never have expected it, scaling up the side of the castle spire was one of the hardest and most exhausting things he'd ever done. The newly-applied grout and mortar between each brick made it extremely difficult to find a recess deep enough to put in hands and feet in, and make his way up to the next handhold or foothold. His lack of proper climbing equipment and the great height of the structure he was attempting to climb all added to the seeming impossibility of the task at hand.  
  
"Son of a bitch!!" He hissed, harshly, as his foot slipped yet again, and he redoubled his efforts just to stay balanced in his current position. There still was about another twenty or so feet for him to climb before he reached the area where he could make a jump to the flat roof of the main building, from where he could finally take the weight of his body off of his hands, and rest for a few moments. He could only hope the others were having an easier time than he was.  
  
Leon's job was probably the easiest of the three, naturally. They'd chosen to start him off with an easier task, one not as monumental as their own, so that if any mistakes were made, the losses were bearable. His job was to knock out the most incompetent looking guard he could find, steal his uniform, and pose as a soldier of Guardia just long enough for them to break Lucca out of prison. Once in diguise, Leon would casually find out just exactly where she was being held, and then notify Crono. When Crono knew exactly where and when to find her, Leon would then sound a false alarm, leading the guards off into another part of the castle, buying enough time for Crono to free his friend, and hand her over to Magus, who would then cast a teleportation spell out of the castle.  
  
Unfortunately, Crono's job was probably the most difficult of the three. It was his responsibility to keep an eye on Leon, while still not being seen himself, to relay the information to Magus once it was obtained, and to physically remove Lucca from prison. On top of everything else, all of this was to be accomplished without any special equipment besides the clothes on his back, his sword, and and empty stomach. He was relentlessly battered with hunger pangs, and lightheadedness, but still he pressed on, knowing what must be done...  
  
"Finally!" He grunted, reaching for the ledge of the low roof. With a heave, he flung the rest of his body over the side, laying flat down, catching his breath, and relishing in the relief of the stress on his tired, tired muscles. He lay there for over fifteen minutes, the afternoon sun high in the sky. It had been about seventeen hours since Leon had commenced the mission, and so far, nothing had gone wrong. Hopefully.  
  
Once sufficent oxygen had coursed through his body, and reached his brain, he reluctantly climbed back up on his feet. His toes ached with a bitter vengeance for having been made to climb over a hundred feet straight up, without stopping to rest, or a relief of the stress on his limbs. Nevertheless, he crept silently along the stone lower roof of Guardia Castle, taking every possible precaution not to be revealed. He knew the stained glass skylight in the ceiling of the Great Hall should be close by, but he also was well aware of the fact that the sound of footsteps on the roof would create a definite commotion in the rooms below. There was only one thing to do.  
  
Putting his dignity aside, he slid forward, laying flat on his stomach, arms at his sides. Pathetically slithering like a deranged snake, he inched his way forward, coming closer to the multicolored glass with each motion. He'd been in the Great Hall before, and the acoustics created by the vaulted cielings and cold, stone walls could reveal the presence of a few tiny pebbles bouncing against the roof, let alone an exhausted Kensai's bumbling.  
  
Due to the fact that stained glass is dyed different colors, and is usually textured and ridged, it is very difficult to see through. This was just occuring to Crono, as he wondered how he was supposed to keep and eye on Leon through a stained glass window. He luckily found an answer in the clear, flat glass border around the window, which would provide enough space for Crono to peer through, while still not being seen from the inside. He held his breath as he leaned in close, and began his observation.  
  
Crono had no problem spotting Leon, being that he was the only bleached- blonde guard with visible brown roots in the entire castle. He instantly clamped his open hand over his mouth, stifling an outburst of laughter. His friend was standing off in the corner of the room, trying his hardest to primarily not be noticed by anyone, and secondarily, to look as official as possible, should anyone notice him. The sight of a young, rebellious man who'd spent half of his life on a skateboard that was trying to fit into the ranks of an overly-formal castle, was one that would inspire most anyone to laugh like crazy. However, after he'd stopped chortling, he noticed something very important about Leon's posture.  
  
His hands were jammed into his pockets, and his body swayed from side to side, the exact signal he was supposed to be giving when he'd obtained the correct information, and was ready for Crono to come to him. The Kensai sighed, and slowly turned around, being careful not to scrape or drag his sneakers against the roof (he'd taken to wearing clothing typical of citizens of Midgar his age, so he wouldn't seem odd to anyone, despite his hair.)  
  
It was times like this that he wished he'd become a ninja, trained in the arts of silence and infiltration. However, he wasn't much for being a thief or assassin, and was much happier as the katana-weilding martial artist he was.  
  
But some damn climbing spikes and rope wouldn't hurt...oh yeah, and maybe some food and water...that'd be nice...  
  
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He squirmed uncomfortably in the stiff, hardwood chair, trying to relax. He hoped Crono would get here soon, because his lack of "class" and "proper manners" were really starting to become obvious to those around him. Not to mention the fact that Sir Maxwell's blood had dripped onto the lapel of the uniform, and Leon had spent half his time either crossing his arms over his chest, or stuffing the stained portion of fabric beneath the other side of his shirt. Luckily, the uniform came with brown cloth gloves, which did a good job of hiding his very conspicuous hands.  
  
The nervous young man couldn't remember just how many times one of the other legitimate guards had shot him disdainful looks, or remarked upon the fact that "they'd never seen him here before", to which is response was "I'm Sir Leonard, I'm new here." With that, he'd proudly smile, and walk away, hoping no one would consult the rosters, and find that no such Sir Leonard existed within the forces.  
  
Surprisingly, obtaining the location of Lucca's whereabouts was not a particularly difficult task. Leon had overheard a small group of guards, who were most likely drunk, chattering about Crono and the "Strange New World", which was Midgar, or course. He'd asked the men where they were keeping her, passing off his inquiry as a question of tactical strategy. The older, battle-hardened guards laughed at this "rookie's" attempt at strategy, but luckily, did not suspect anything odd at the time.  
  
Keeping rigidly to the preset plan of action, Leon was about to stand up, cross his arms, and sway from side to side, hoping Crono would see him one of these times, but something stopped him.  
  
"Psst...hey, man." A faint whisper floated in from behind the thick curtains where Leon sat. Fighting the urge to spin around, startled, Leon slowly stood up, stretched, and pretended to go look out the window. Sure enough, a very worn-out looking Crono was crouched behind the curtains, the window hanging slightly open, which Leon soon began to fiddle with, buying them some time.  
  
"She's in a cell in the basement, where they used to keep a Rainbow Rock, or something like that. But you gotta be careful, it's swarmin' with guards. Watch your back, dude." He whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Crono's shoulders heaved in a sigh. He wasn't sure how much more this his body could take. Just as he began to look for a chance to get out the window again, he noticed golden uniform of the Knight Captain, and two other standard guards marching toward Leon and the curtains. Crono panicked.  
  
"Leon! Look out!" He hissed under his breath. His friend was confused.  
  
"What? Where?"  
  
"Hold it right there, young man." the commanding voice boomed from behind. Leon froze, and was forcefully turned around by one of the guards.  
  
"Oh no..." Crono said to himself.  
  
"Now then, son, what did you say your name was?" asked one on the blue uniformed guards. Leon pulled at his stiff collar, anxiously.  
  
"Um...Leonard...Sir Leonard." He prayed for a miracle to save him as the golden Knight Captain scanned through several sheets of paper.  
  
"That's very odd, Leonard. You're not on this list anywhere, and I am very particular about my rosters." the captain said, impatiently.  
  
"Uh...I'm new?" Leon said it as more of a question than an answer. Crono knew he had to do something...but whatever he did would reveal his position that he'd worked for so long to keep concealed.  
  
"I doubt that. The captain makes it his personal responsibility to get to know each and every member of his forces, and neither he nor any of us have ever seen you around here." One guard said. The other nodded.  
  
"Yes, sir, I believe we have an impostor on our hands..." The Knight Captain sighed.  
  
"What is your busniess here. Answer me. Now." Leon began sweating, his breathing shook, and his heard raced at an audible rate.  
  
"I'm uh, filling in for Sir Maxwell, who's uh, got a bad cold. I'm from a temp agency down south. And in fact, oh, look at the time! My shift is over, I gotta run! Bye guys!" He tried to run, but the three guards caught him by his uniform, and held him still.  
  
"You spy! You'll spend a great many years in prison for this!" the shorter guard threatened, as he struggled to keep hold of the intruder.  
  
"Hey! Up here! Hi guys! Hey! Hiya doin'? It's me!" The puzzled guards looked up in the direction of the voice, and were floored when they saw Crono, standing on the iron bar that held up the drapes above the window, taunting them. They soon forgot all about Leon, and turned their attentions elsewhere.  
  
"C-Crono!! You...you're a part of this! I should've known, you traitor! Come down here this instant!" The captain shouted. Crono smirked, and began slicing the curtains from the posts with his katana, being careful not to cut himself down. During all of this, Leon was backing up a safe distance from the guards who were all staring up at the spectacle Crono was creating.  
  
"You stop that! You've got no business destroying our property!" The taller soldier ranted. With a bound, Crono flew off of the rods, curtains in hand. As his flight began nearing its end, he released the massive drapes, covering the captain and his two top lieutenants. Leon marveled at Crono's quick thinking, but Crono knew they had no time to waste.  
  
"Listen, go get Magus. You and he will have to hold them off here while I get to Lucca, understood?" Leon nodded, and took off running for the doors. Crono turned back to the rest of the guards, bringing his sword in front of him, the few standing guards hesitating to approach him.  
  
"Get the fuck out of my way!" he roared as he broke through the men, slamming those who dared to challenge him aside. The basement steps were not far away, and Magus was ready at a moments notice, which was the only thing that kept his fatigued mind focused and somewhat calm.  
  
* * *  
  
Seconds later, the captain and his lieutenants emerged from the tangle of thick cloth, and got to their feet, only to find the room devoid of either Crono or the spy, undoubtedly a friend of Crono's.  
  
"What's going on? Where are they?" He demanded. The soldiers frowned, some of them still making their way off of the floor.  
  
"Sir, Crono...escaped into the basement, while the other left through the front door..." A guard remarked, hopeless of catching either of them. The captain was furious.  
  
"Idiots! Get them! I want half of you to search for the spy, and the other half are coming with me after Cro-"  
  
"May I have your attention please! Hey! Everyone, I'm about to do something important here!" Leon shouted, emerging in the doorway. "Okay, kiddies, he's big, he's bad, he's blue, and he kicks more ass than you have! Allow me to introduce the baddest damn wizard you'll ever meet! Give it up for Magus!"  
  
The mage materialized in the open doorway, the draft blowing his hair and cape, dramatically. Guards, servants, and other denizens of the castle stared in both horror and awe at the man who over four hundred years had plagued their lands with death and destruction. The knight captain braced himself.  
  
"Listen, men. Disregard my last order. We must all pull together against this enemy. Do you hear me? If we scatter, he'll kill us one by one. Banded together is the way we stand a chance at defeating him. Follow my lead..." He ordered. His loyal soldiers obeyed, forming a phalanx around him. "If I am to die here on this day, then please, protect the king and princess with your lives." They nodded. "On my word!" He shouted, all warriors rasing their swords and shields.  
  
"Attack!" shouted the captain, charging at the head of the group, sword arm outstretched. Faster and faster he ran, the shouts of his men close behind. Yet no matter how fierce and brutal their charge was, neither the mage nor his young accomplice made a move to evade the onslaught. Instead, the wizard stood firmly in the doorway, his hands waving, creating patterns of loops and spirals in the air as they overlapped and flowed around each other. A blazing red glow eminated from his gloved fingers, stretching farther and farther outward as time progressed.  
  
"Sir!" the shorter lieutenant called, "It's a spell! We've got to turn back!" Their captain smote the idea.  
  
"No! We must attack! Now!" But it was too late. In the blink of an eye, the air around them began to...ignite. Whisps of flame rising from the floor engulfed some, blinded others, and fused the weapons of the most unlucky to their very hands. Shrieks of agony and the stench of burning flesh filled the room, as the raging fire devoured everything in its path. In the flames' wake, more than half of the men, including both lieutenants lay sputtering in death's merciless grasp. The straggling survivors prayed for strength and protection, as they did their best to regroup.  
  
"Hey, we're really sorry about that. The pyrotechnics show got a little out of hand, but it's nothin' a little more practice won't fix. But if ya stick around, we'll refund your money ASAP. Or, on second thought, we'll just kick your-" Leon chimed.  
  
"Shut up and fight." Magus commanded, interrupting his antagonizating speech.  
  
"Right'o." Leon agreed, jumping into the fray, as he grabbed the back of a staggering soldier's head and kneed him in the face.  
  
* * *  
  
A grim satisfaction pleased his mind as he watched the prison guards tremble and spasmodically collapse, as the electric manifestation of his rage sizzled through their plated armor, straight down to their bones. It had been a long while since he'd summoned his magical energy in a mass destructive way, yet it was always available, fierce as ever. The last of them hit the floor as he ran past, knocking them flat with short, powerful swings of his katana.  
  
Down the dark hall his sore legs carried him, a torch in one hand, his readied weapon in the other. According to Leon's extrememly concise directions, she should be around here somewhere, yet he saw no prison cells, just countless unused suits of armor, empty kegs, boxes, and clay pots. How in the world could you keep a prisoner down here?  
  
"Crono!" He stopped in his tracks as the voice he knew all to well came running from behind him. He spun, still holding his armaments, as the princess ran into him, hugging him tightly around the waist, and bawling into his chest. "Oh, Crono. I'm so sorry...so sorry. Please don't hurt anyone else, please...I didn't mean to make you do this, you know how I can be sometimes...oh god...please forgive me..." He was stunned. Of all the possible things that could've happened on this mission, this he would never have expected in a million years.  
  
"Crono...please come back...it'll be okay, honest. I...I believe you now. Really, I do...but we miss you so...I still love you...honest..." She wept. Crono's heart sunk. Could this really be happening? He knew that he was unhappy before, but could anything ever be different between them? Could he ever say that he loved her again? What about Yuffie? What about his new life in Midgar? It was all such a new rush of emotions to him, that he almost didn't notice Marle glance over his shoulder, once, twice, and then back into his eyes.  
  
Something's not right here...he thought. Sure enough, his ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps behind him. She had set him up to be ambushed.  
  
Breaking free from Marle's tight grasp, he spun around, thrusting the torch into whatever it was that was behind him. The soldier shouted in pain and surprise, dropping the short dagger he had been weilding. With a malice, Crono slapped the flat of his katana into the guard's face, drawing two lines of blood, and scraping the skin raw. As the man crumpled, Crono closed his eyes, and elbowed sharply behind him, catching Marle in the upper stomach. He heard her soft cry, and she sank to her knees with a thump.  
  
His breaths came in shakes as he swallowed hard to clear the lump from his throat. There was nothing this girl would stop at doing to hurt him, nothing sacred or special to her, yet he still felt so guilty about harming her in return. Not stopping to look back at her, he ran on, wiping his eyes, and borrowing a flame from another torch in the hall. Up ahead, he finally saw the sought-after prison bars, behind them lay absolute darkness. As he approached them, he stuck his newly lit torch through them, calling out.  
  
"Lucca! Are you in there! Lucca, it's me, Crono! Are you okay?" He called. No answer came for a moment, but then,  
  
"Crono...?" A weak, tired voice whispered from behind the bars. "Crono...please...get me out of here...I think I'm dying..." Crono ground down, and put the torch out, taking hold of his blade with both hands.  
  
"Hang on, I'll get you out...don't worry. I'm here, it's gonna be okay. I promise." He slashed at the bars until his hands hurt, and the sparks stung his skin.  
  
"It's not working..." she groaned. Crono was stumped. In a futile attempt, he grabbed the steel rods, trying to break them off of their hinges, creating such a loud din, that he didn't hear the commotion behind him.  
  
"Woah! Hold up there, big guy. I can help ya with that." Leon ran in behind him, his clothes torn and stained red with blood. The fabric was so bathed in it, that it was a rarity to find a patch of the actual color still showing through.  
  
"Leon! Oh god...you're losing blood! You're gonna die!! Don't exert yourself, man! We'll get you help!" But his friend just smiled, and took hold of the bars, his hands pulsing with power and pure strength. With a yell, he yanked at the bars, the metal posts inverting outward, and then slowly bursting off of their hinges, releasing small clouds of dust and crumbled wall.  
  
"Oh yeah." he said, proudly, and he flung the prison doors down. Crono was completely baffled at this point.  
  
"How did you...what in the...how in the...what about the...how!?!?" he shouted, struck dumb.  
  
"Ah, I'll tell you later, man. Right now, I believe we have a fair maiden to rescue, am I right?" Crono hesitated, but nodded.  
  
"Yeah...alright Lucca. Can you walk?"  
  
"....No...I...I don't have any strength to." He frowned.  
  
"Alright then...I'll carry you. Just try to stay awake. I'm gonna get you to Magus. He'll get you outta here fast." Crono supported her back with one hand, and slung her legs over the other. Her flesh was cold, and clammy, yet her face was drenched in sweat. "Damn...you must really be sick. We're almost there, just a few more minutes." He tried to calm her, as he traveled up the stairs, Leon in the lead.  
  
"You were taking so long down there, I thought something was wrong, so I came after, lucky for you, dude." He said, over his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, I had a little trouble, nothing major though." Crono replied. He turned sideways as he passed through the door to the Great Hall, being careful not to bump Lucca against anything. He stopped short, hit with the gruesome sight of dozens of soldier's bodies littering the floor of the hall. Magus was standing in the still-open doorway, with his back to them, as he often did.  
  
"Magus! We got her, here she is!" Crono said, rushing over to the wizard. Before he handed her over to him, he kissed her on the cheek, looking solemnly at her. "Be strong. We'll see you soon." And with that, both young men left through the front door, running to a tree where Leon had left his original clothes, and then finally back toward Midgar, shouting and congratulating each other.  
  
"Be careful..." Magus murmured to their shapes, gradually disappearing from sight.  
  
The Black Wind howls...  
  
THE END  
  
part seven 


	8. Ruthless

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector Seven, 0004 N.C.E.  
  
"Melanie! Table four! Get a move on!" The agitated voice of the restaurant manager called for the fifth time.  
  
"Okay! I heard you the first time!" Came her curt reply. She flipped through her notepad as she strolled down the brick steps, recalling mentally where table four was. Just as she reached into her pocket for the ever-elusive pen that was essential for taking orders, a shout startled her out of her preprogrammed movements.  
  
"Yo, Mel! Hey, where ya been?" The familiar voice and dialect of her friend Leon drew her attention away from her waitress shorthand, and down to the men seated at her assigned table. Sure enough, Leon and his newly- aquainted best friend Crono stared up at her, with faces scarred by fatigue and hunger.  
  
"Hey, guys! I was just, y'know, making sure some folks got their orders right, sorry 'bout the wait. Woah, you guys sure look hungry! What'll it be?" Leon chuckled, cracking his knuckles.  
  
"Geeze, I could eat a freakin' chocobo, I'm so hungry!" He blurted. Melanie chortled, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing by covering her face with the green notepad (which actually only made it more obvious that she in fact was laughing at Leon's boisterous behavior.)  
  
"Leon! People are staring!" She whispered. He made a face and waved his hand, dismissively.  
  
"Ah, let 'em stare. Anyways, babe, me and the dude here will split two large pizzas, with...damn...everything. And a few sodas would be sweet, too." He grinned. She scribbled furiously, translating his order into three-letter words such as, "2 piz w/ all top".  
  
"Okay, guys, I'll have your drinks out in a sec." She hurried back into the kitchen, doing her best to avoid her disgruntled boss. Meanwhile, back at the table, Leon and Crono were still boasting to each other about the day's exploits.  
  
"Yeah, so that's when I was like, surrounded by four guys, and I just step back, real cool and all, and I just punched out the first knucklehead, picked his ass up, and threw him at the other three. They were total wusses, man. Total wusses." Leon raved. Crono smiled, munching on the complementary breadsticks in the basket at the corner of the table.  
  
"Dude, you never told me what was up with the blood on your clothes. What in the hell happened? You looked like you shoulda been dead? And then, when you just walked right up and ripped the bars off their hinges. I was like, so shocked I couldn't believe it. What's the deal with you, man?" His friend looked down at the table, uncomfortably.  
  
"Could we talk about it later, bro? I don't feel like getting into it now, I just wanna eat." Crono shrugged.  
  
"Suits me fine. That was amazing though, you gotta admit." Leon was unable to reply, as their waitress arrived on the scene, setting down to huge glasses of clear soda. She stepped back, looking proud of her work.  
  
"Those should keep ya busy for a while. Or at least 'till your pizzas're done." She remarked, jokingly.  
  
"Heh, I doubt it. You know me." The blonde said, winking at her with a smile. It almost appeared that she would faint for a moment, until she regained her bearings, and left the table, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
Leon didn't waste any time, diving straight into his enormous amount of soda, gulping it down like some long-needed oxygen. However, Crono didn't touch his beverage, as he was smirking at his friend from across the table. Eventually, one of Leon's eyes caught Crono's expression, and he swallowed the huge amount of drink in his mouth, wiping his face with his sleeve.  
  
"Whassup?" He inquired, informally. Crono sighed.  
  
"You know what's up. I saw the look, the wink, the half-swoon, everything. You two are so goofy for each other, you don't even notice it." Leon let out an exasperated groan.  
  
"Oh, no. Not this again. Look, man, there's nothing between me and our waitress. You think a little flirting means something, well it doesn't. We're just friends, that's all." Crono shook his head.  
  
"Quit kidding yourself, dude. You're totally for her, and you know it!" At this point, Leon's face was beat red, his normally calm disposition growing more and more irritated by the minute.  
  
"Look, step off, alright?" Leon advised, harshly.  
  
"Oh, and I suppose it's okay that you bug me non-stop about Yuffie when you feel like it, but I can't talk to you about Melanie."  
  
"Look, man. I don't suck on this girl's face for two freakin' hours in the back of the restaurant while everybody stares at us! It's a little different here!" Crono was slightly put down by this, but he retaliated with:  
  
"Ah, you're just scared to ask her out...that's all." His comment very clearly hit home, as Leon almost pounded through the table with his fist, getting up out of his seat, and throwing twenty Gil on his placemat, as he stormed toward the door, not saying a word.  
  
"Hey! Dude, come back! I didn't mean it seriously!" Crono protested.  
  
"Yeah, whatever." He slammed the doors open, disappearing into the city outside. Crono groaned. This what not what he though would happen. Leon never acted out like this before, and he sure didn't think that a little teasing would set him off. Telling Melanie to wait until he came back to bring the pizzas to the table, he assured her he'd only be a minute. Rushing to make up for lost time, he ran out the doors, trying to catch up to his friend.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------  
  
The night air was warm and damp, and a thick steam was visible around the various sources of light in the city. The avenue right outside the pizza parlor was not particularly busy, an occasional car passing through, and the sounds of the highway uptown were audible in the semi-silence. Crono surveyed the entire street, from lanes to sidewalks, and even the rooftops, yet he saw no trace of Leon, who'd left the restaurant about fifteen seconds before him.  
  
He couldn't have gotten that far ahead of me...hell, he wasn't even running...  
  
"Hey! Leon! Dude, where'dya go? Hello? Leon!" He called, cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his already loud voice. No answer.  
  
This is weird...he just like...disappeared...or he's hiding from me...  
  
He was contemplating what to say next, believing Leon had decided not to answer him, when he thought he heard something. It came from up ahead, and it sounded like a metallic bang. Then there was a voice, only it was a hushed voice, one very strained, yet muffled at the same time. Crono cautiously moved toward the direction the noise came from, hearing more and more sounds as he approached. Some were loud, some were subtle, but all of them seemed like likely sounds of a struggle. Tiptoing as effectively as possible, he narrowed the source of the sounds down to a secluded alleyway between an old apartment building, and an abandoned convinience store. Without making a sound, he leaned his ear close to the mouth of the alleyway, listening carefully.  
  
There was a shuffling sound, and a bit of loud "clanking", and then...as faint as a whisper, there was a slight moan, and then more of the same shuffling and clanking. Painfully slow were Crono's movements as he peered with one eye around the corner of the wall. All that lay in the alleyway were scattered papers, a sideways garbage can who's contents had been spilled all over the concrete, and a rusty green dumpster in the corner, that had been shut tight, with several black and orange crates atop it. Yet amidst all this junk, there was no sign of a struggle, or even a person at that. He was about to turn around, when he heard another noise. It came from the back of the alley, puzzling Crono as to its source.  
  
Unable to restrain his curiosity, he proceeded to walk further into the large alcove, making sure no one was around to see him enter the alley. Once inside, the single flickering lightbulb perched about fifteen feet above the ground provided sufficient light to make Crono's search possible. He examined everything he could find in a circumspect manner, trying to figure out what was making those noises, until he heard yet another sound, this time a very weak human sigh, and it came directly from the vicinity of the large green dumpster.  
  
Trying not to be nervous, Crono walked up to the metal bin, jumping as something inside it bumped against the roof, feebly. With a heft, he began sliding the heavy crates off the roof of the dumpster, setting them down on the ground beside it. He also noticed that once he began moving the crates, the noises had stopped completely, almost as if he had frightened their source away. As he threw the final box aside, he unsheathed his katana, using it to pry open the rusty roof of the dumpster. Eventually, with a little effort, the door opened with a sickening creak, revealing the still body inside.  
  
Leon was slumped against the left wall of the container, his face beaten and bloody, and a huge section of the fabric in his shirt missing, having been violently torn away.  
  
"Leon!" Crono whispered, "Leon, man, can you hear me? Are you awake? It's me, Crono." The young man's head turned toward him, his eyes slowly opening, with a definite hazy look in them.  
  
"Unnh...Crono...get outta here...it's gonna come back..." He muttered, shaking his head slowly.  
  
"What? What's gonna come back?" Crono asked, concerned.  
  
"I dont know...I just don't know..." Leon's voice cracked, and tears began to run down his swelling face.  
  
"Calm down, man. What happened to you? You've only been out here like, a few minutes."  
  
"I...I was just walkin'...and...somethin' just hit me...in the head...and...it just...kept hittin' me...and I tried to hit it back...but it was so damn huge...I don't know what the fuck it was...it was so strong...it just threw me around, and stuffed me in here. I got some kinda cut...I don't know...but I can't move my leg..." He babbled, sadly.  
  
"Alright, I'm gonna get you outta here. Grab my hand." Leon shook his head again.  
  
"No...I can't move...I feel so sick...when I try to move...you, you gotta get help...I think I might be poisoned or somethin'..." Crono sighed. This was not good.  
  
"I can't leave you here...you said whatever it was would-" He stopped talking, and froze his entire body. He heard the sound of breaking glass, and the dim light in the alley vanished. Someone had smashed the bulb on the wall.  
  
"Would what? Go get help...I'll be alright for a few minutes...just go get help..." Leon breathed.  
  
"Shh..." Crono hissed, "don't say a word...I think there's somone here..."  
  
"Oh shit...run! Run!! Get the hell out of here!" He shouted, in his drugged slur of words. Crono gulped, taking slow, deep breaths.  
  
"Okay...calm down...shh..." he ordered, turning back toward the entranceway. Using the scarce light from the street ahead, he searched for a visitor, knowing that by Leon's description of it, it would be relatively easy to spot. Throughout all of this, Crono was not particularly intimidated, as he'd stood up to the likes of Lavos, which surely was an unmatchable evil to be faced by anyone. Nevertheless he doubted that whatever person had attacked Leon, although it must be crafty and formidable, would not stand a chance against such a master as himself.  
  
There was no sign of the eavesdropper anywhere in the alley, or in any of the visible area up ahead, however, Crono assumed, anyone with half a brain would be waiting at the corner to jump out when he "unsuspectingly" passed by. Assured that he'd beaten them at their own game, he calmly unsheathed his sword, as he catfooted to the entranceway, keeping the blade in front of him.  
  
I've dealt with your type...you pick on those weaker than you, then you think you're hot stuff...and then one day, just one day...you get what's coming to you...  
  
"Tonight's your night, pal." He whispered, under his breath. In tense times such as this, he needed to psyche himself up, to make sure he believed he was going to win, so he stayed calm, and relaxed, able to execute the necessary actions to win the fight.  
  
The building corners were approaching, as was the moment of attack. Unsure of which exact corner the assailant would emerge from, he did his best to stay in the dead center of the two, with his weight evenly distributed between both feet. He estimated that the onslaught would come from the left side, where the bulb once was, but he knew it could go either way as well.  
  
It was time.  
  
Uncoiling like a human spring, he lept out, spinning completely around with his katana extended, sure to clear out the initial assault.  
  
Yet it touched nothing...  
  
He heard his feet hit the ground, creating a dull, lifeless sound, as gratifying as the drop of a pebble into a great wooden keg. Whirling around again, he saw that no enemy stood by the corners of the alley, which struck a damaging blow to his tactical confidence. About to run back into the alley in confusion, his eyes barely caught the shape that was leaning against a lightpost, about thirty feet away, to the left. It was tall and thin, and it leaned against the post casually, almost arrogantly, with it's head was turned directly toward Crono.  
  
The Kensai tightened his grip on the strapping of his sword, sizing up his opponent. It was a younger man, perhaps even younger than Crono, with strangely beautiful locks of silver hair draping down to his shoulders. His emerald eyes seemed to blaze with an excited anticipation, as he too, appeared to be appraising Crono as well. A wicked grin was present on his face, as he waved "hello", calmly, not moving away from the lightpost. This had to be a diversion!  
  
Remembering Marle's similar attempted trick, he whipped his head around the other way, and sure enough, found another young man, slightly younger than the one by the lightpost, standing in the shadows against the broken glass of the abandoned grocery store. Brown hair grew from this one's scalp, and he was shorter and more muscular, yet his eyes were almost identical to the other's. It was odd at first, yet after a few glances back and forth, he saw a sharp resemblance between the two, almost as if they might be relatives of one another. The odds had shifted slightly, but Crono still kept a cool head.  
  
Alright...it's a little tricky now...but I can handle two of 'em. They don't even look like they're old enough to drink, let alone fight...  
  
The adrenaline pumped through his body as he stood between a rock and a hard place, ready for anything. Waiting anxiously for the first move, he decided to play this fight defensively, and to "feel out" his opponents' fighting styles before getting too fancy. Yet however long he waited, neither of them moved from their original position, both sets of eyes still glued to him. He wondered how long it would be before someone made a move...  
  
"So." Crono said, breaking the ice that froze the entire street. "Are we gonna fight, or are you gonna tell me what this is about?" The older snickered, and then spoke.  
  
"Us? Fight? Are you kidding? Who could fight on a night like this? Why it's just so nice and...calm..." he remarked, putting an edge in his voice at the appropriate time.  
  
"Then what in the hell is going on here? What did you do to Leon?"  
  
"What's going on here? Why, we're just waiting for the...uh...bus, that's all! And I certainly don't know anyone named Lee-on, as you say (what a pitiful name). Do you, o' brother of mine whom standeth in the shadows?" he inquired. The younger brother shook his head, not saying a word. "There, you see? We're just standing around, minding our own business, when you jump out and start swinging that overgrown kitchen knife around like it's the end of the world. We don't have any idea what you're talking about, pinapple-head, and we'd appreciate it if you'd stop harrasing us. Good night." Crono was puzzled, but pretty sure that these idiots weren't a threat. Still deciding to be on the safe side, he retreated defensively, keeping his sword out and his guard up. Backstepping all the way across the street, he neared the lightpost on the opposite side, still keeping an eye on the brothers.  
  
That's when he felt it.  
  
It was a cool breath on the back of his neck, one that ran eerie tingles down his spine and into his queasy stomach.  
  
Damn... he thought, it's really getting cold out here... and he went to tuck his arms into his body, to let his clothed back absorb the chill.  
  
Only he couldn't move...  
  
He was stuck, trapped in place, with the inability to move his hands, feet, head, neck, shoulers, or anything besides his eyes and lungs. For the first few seconds he believed that an odd fear had claimed his body temporarily, but after frantic attempts to move just a single muscle, he soon realized that this was no spell of fear. He barely recalled Magus and his many spells, that would do all sorts of torturous things to an enemy...  
  
It's like putting them in a foolproof prison...they're very much aware of what's going on, but can't do a thing about it...it's called a "paralysis" spell...  
  
Now he knew what had been happening all along. The whole thing was a set- up, and someone had Crono right where they wanted him. If they'd been out to get Leon, he would've been dead already, but it was clear that they were much more interested in the fish that was dangling breathless from their steel hook. Nodding in Crono's general direction, the two began to advance, walking nonchalantly across the street, the eldest making smug faces at the paralyzed Kensai. The two brothers looked him up and down at short range, examining his blade, and his physical condition.  
  
"I'll just take this, thank you..." The silver-haired brother effortlessly plucked the sword from Crono's still hands, admiring it subtley. He stepped back, and swept it back and forth around his prisoner's head, tormenting him. "My, it's got a nice feel to it. It looks almost clear too...quite impressive, fellow Kensai." Crono was shocked. Was this fiend really a Kensai? The code did say nothing of moral alignment or good versus evil...but how could one so devious be a man of honor as well? It seemed impossible, but there were far more important issues at hand than an ethical debate.  
  
His thoughts raced as their visual examination of him appeared to be nearing it's end. He knew it wouldn't be long before they beat him unconscious or dragged his limp body out of sight, and he knew that he couldn't bear submitting to the enemy, even if the struggle against them was futile. Such was the nature of the Kensai. Doing the only thing he could, he tried to calm himself, and mentally break the effect of the spell. His eyes fluttered closed...  
  
Calm down...okay...easy, man...just relax...you're not trapped, you're not gonna die...you've just had a trick played on you...mind over matter...it's just mind over matter...  
  
"Hmm...he looks like he's trying to meditate or something..." Silver-hair said. For the first time this night, his brother actually responded.  
  
"We shouldn't let him...the spell has been known to be thwarted by metaphysical power." He stated. His sibling was furious with him.  
  
"Idiot! Don't you realize he can still hear you!?"  
  
"Well...I said we shouldn't let him..." Brown-hair looked at his feet, meekly. And then, above their bickering...there was another voice behind Crono, one stolid and commanding, with the fury of a storm, and the authority of a warlord.  
  
"Put him on his back." The two brothers looked at each other uneasily, but the younger obeyed. He kicked Crono's legs out from under him, and shoved him hard in the chest, knocking him flat backward. He still could feel the discomfort just as well as when he was able to move his limbs, yet he remained bound in place. Now he began to lose his cool conscience, well aware that the end was near if he didn't get out of here very soon.  
  
I have to move...I can't stay like this...I'm going to die...  
  
His mind was screaming, writhing, crying out for help...only his body wouldn't respond.  
  
Please...Gods...let me out...give me a fighting chance...  
  
The fingers on his right hand began to twitch, spasmodically.  
  
I'm going to die, Gods, LET ME OUT OF HERE!!!  
  
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!" Crono screamed, shattering the silence that covered the city like thin glass. His arms flailed and his legs kicked, the spell finally broken. Both visible captors were stunned.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" The older cried.  
  
"Alex! It really is possible!" The younger answered, almost gleefully at this visible proof.  
  
"Not so fast, Crono..." The voice of the hidden one advised, drearily. Crono winced as a blinding silver streak flashed over his face, singing faintly as it passed through the air. Instantly, the streetlight behind him stopped illuminating the area, and he heard the pole wobble, and begin to fall from its foundation. A new kind of paralysis overcame him, as he tensed his muscles, and closed his eyes, exhaling nearly all the breath in his body as the metal post landed heavily on his stomach, pinning him down. As Crono struggled both to force the heavy object off of him and to breathe comfortably, the hidden one finally stepped forward.  
  
In the darkness, all Crono saw was black. Black as death, and just as cold and unforgiving. His face was invisible, but his hair shone a similar silver to the one called Alex's. His shape was immense, so frighteningly immense that Crono swore he could feel himself shrinking right then and their.  
  
Now he knew what Leon was talking about.  
  
"...who are you...?" He whispered, shakily, afraid his heart may burst against his ribs. He'd stopped fighting to liberate himself, and now he simply stared up at the dark shapes, wondering almost vicariously what might happen to him. Crono couldn't see any of their faces in the pitch dark, but he knew they had to be smiling.  
  
"I am the murderer...the savior...the angel...the devil...the butcher...and the lamb...I am all that is, and all that will be..." the odd riddle made no sense to Crono, although he increasingly became more frightened.  
  
"Look...just let me go...whatever you are, I'm not getting involved...I'm just going to be on my way, and staying out of yours." Alex laughed, mockingly, at the Kensai.  
  
"You are young and foolish, Crono...I almost find it insulting to have been pitted against you...but I'm afraid the contest is over...and you have lost..." The Dark One said, cryptically.  
  
This is it...I'm really going to die after all...and I don't even know why...  
  
And then...out of the darkness, filling the air with a golden stream of light, was a miracle...a four-wheeled miracle. A van honked its horn furiously, as it barreled down the street toward them.  
  
"What the devil...?" Alex said, dumbfounded. Crono had the chance to get a good look at all of them now, but he sacrificed it for more important matters. He knew what he had to do, his only option. His only chance at survival.  
  
Squirming out from under it and shoving it aside with every ounce of his strength, he lunged forward onto his feet, shoving through the two brothers, who were still staring into the headlights, unsure of what to do. Someone had found them out, and what would they do now?  
  
Crono bolted straight toward the van that was still moving, waving his arms, and shouting at the top of his lungs. He jumped back a step as the vehicle slammed on its breaks, screeching to a halt mere feet in front of him. The Kensai then ran to the passenger's side door, punching straight through the glass, reaching in, and pulling up the button lock. The panicked van driver began to pull away, but not before Crono flung the door open, scrambling to get inside the vehicle. However, just as he was about to pull his last leg through the doorway, he felt the cold kiss of the Dark One's blade on his left leg, instantly numbing it from the ankle down. But it wasn't a fatal blow, and Crono was bent on getting out of this place at all costs, so he grimaced, and slammed the door shut, hearing a sickening screech as the blade ground against the side of the van.  
  
"Go! Go! Go!!" he screamed to the man in the driver's seat, who was in shock, unable to get a word out of his mouth. Unable to hesitate, Crono seized the wheel, and stomped on the gas pedal, the car rocketing forward, making the three attackers dive and roll out of the way. He kept the pedal floored until he was well down the street, and encountering other cars that he may run off the road if he didn't slow it down a bit. A huge sigh escaped his lungs, as he knew he was finally safe, for now.  
  
Far back behind them, the Dark One rose to his feet, glaring at the retreating vehicle in the distance.  
  
Do not celebrate, Crono...the night is younger than you think...  
  
THE END  
  
part eight 


	9. Mean Streets

ADVERSARY  
  
  
  
Midgar, Sector 7, 0004 N.C.E.  
  
He placed his hand on the grey leather dashboard, bracing himself with his arm. This helped to prevent him from slamming his head through the windshield as the automobile stopped short in front of its destination.  
  
"Now get the hell outta my van and you and your friends stay the hell away from me, you freak!" The brown haired man shouted at Crono, waiting impatiently from him to get out the door. Crono shook his head a few times, rubbing his tired eyes. He'd been awake far too long, had been enduring constant physical strain, and was being deprived of much-needed nutrition. The driver was becoming less and less understanding by the second, the strange, unexpected passenger not moving from his seat.  
  
"Look, you broke my damn window, almost got me killed, and made me drive you to this stupid bar. Now willya please just get out of here and leave me out of your plans!" He pleaded. Crono nodded.  
  
"Okay...I'm goin'..." He fumbled with the doorknob, eventually pulling the handle out in the correct direction, and letting the hollow sheet metal door swing open. Lifting his injured leg up with both hands, and moving the other one on its own, he set his feet down on the sidewalk. No sooner did he step out of the vehicle than the man slammed the door shut again, shaking some broken shards of glass loose. As it pulled away almost violently, Crono noticed the huge, deep gouge in the side of the van, spanning from the side of the door, to the front of the cargo area.  
  
Doing his best not to fall over, Crono tried to do most of the walking with his right leg, dragging his left leg (which was now completely numb and useless) behind him. With each movement came a nauseous sensation within him that made him want to pass out, yet he knew that if he didn't seek help, he could be in serious trouble. Luckily the distance from the curb to the familiar tinted glass doors was small, and he soon made his way inside, the blaring noises aggrivating his splitting headache.  
  
The inside of the bar was just like he'd remembered from the week before, the neon lights flashing and the young adults dancing and partying just as rowdily as they had been when he'd come in last time. Straining his eyes, he could see some familiar faces all huddled together around the bar, laughing and drinking like it was any other night (which was understandable, because, for most people, it had been and average night.) Ironically, one of the members of the group was the usual bar hostess, who apparently hadn't noticed him arrive, and was sitting down like she was a regular customer.  
  
Seated next to her was her husband Cloud, who at the moment, was smiling, with his arm loosely wrapped around her. Across the counter was the blonde man in the leather pilot's jacket, and next to him was Yuffie, who giddly sipped her beverage, trying not to burst out laughing while swallowing. Crono sighed. They seemed like they were all having such a great time...and he was going to come in and break it up with more bad news. He almost felt like turning around and leaving, but he doubted he would make it very far, and he knew no one else in the town that might be able to help him.  
  
The hesistation cost him a lot of the prescious time he had, the sickness beginning to spread throughout his entire body, virtually eating away his strength. Fighting to take each step, he slowly moved forward, his right leg beginning to tingle with cold sensations. His insides were burning, and his eyes were recieving only swirled images, that had he not already known what they were, he would've never been able to tell. He was screaming out their names, crying out for help, begging just to be noticed...but all that passed through his lips were garbled whispers, inaudible in this loud environment. He wasn't going to make it...  
  
The poison gripped his mind, and pulled it straight down, taking Crono with it. Reaching out with one hand, he thought he felt his finger touch something, but perhaps he was just hallucinating as the floor rushed up to meet him...  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh my God! Crono!! Are you okay? Oh...what happened? Crono? Crono!?" Her voice echoed in his ears, the words barely reaching his brain.  
  
"Easy! Easy, kid. Calm down. Give him some room, let 'im breathe."  
  
"Dammit, Yuffie, what the hell is going on here?"  
  
"I don't know! He just collapsed right here!"  
  
"Cid, help me take him into the back room. There's some couches and stuff back there."  
  
"Okay, Teef. Cloud, get some water and towels, and hurry the hell up."  
  
"Will somebody please explain what's going on here!"  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine."  
  
"Be careful with him! He's still alive you know!"  
  
"Really now? You're a genius there, Yuffster. What tipped you off? Was it the breathing or the pulse?"  
  
"Ah, take it easy on the kid, and get the damn water, Cloud."  
  
"Yeah, fine. He's probably drunk."  
  
Hey...shut up, blondie...  
  
Too weak to open his eyes, he saw nothing but solid black as he listened to them bicker, and felt himself being moved around roughly. Moments later, the moving stopped, and he was rested down somewhere, under bright lights that penetrated the total darkness before his eyes.  
  
"Alright, I got the water and the towels." Cloud said.  
  
"Thanks, give 'em here." His wife replied. Crono felt her pat the cool, damp cloth on his face a few times, wiping away the sweat.  
  
"Is he gonna be okay?" He heard Yuffie ask, concerned. There was silence for a minute. "Teef, is he gonna be okay?" She repeated.  
  
"I dunno...he's kinda cold and he shakes a lot. He's...pretty pale too."  
  
"Dammit, we gotta find out what happened! Give 'im somethin' to get him awake for a bit. Wait...here...use this." The shuffling of the older man's jacket was heard, and the clinking of glass as it passed from his hand to her's. She gently opened Crono's mouth, and poured the liquid into it. As an unconscious reflex, his body swallowed the fluid, and a rush of energy followed it. Enough energy for him to open his eyes, and sit up.  
  
"Crono! Oh, you're okay!" Yuffie squeezed his hand. He smiled at her, but addressed them all.  
  
"Listen...thank you all so much...I feel okay now." He assured them. Cloud was impatient.  
  
"Never mind that. What the hell happened to you?" He stood with arms akimbo. Crono smirked, and yanked up the left leg of his pants, revealing the jagged wound, festering with a sickening black liquid that coated the entire cut area. "Holy shit...how'd you get that?"  
  
"I got jumped by some freaks."  
  
"Freaks? Whaddya mean, freaks?" Strife demanded.  
  
"There were three of them, I think they were all brothers...or...well...I know that two of 'em were brothers, the two smaller guys, then there was the other guy...really big guy. He's the one that gave me that cut."  
  
"How'd you get away?"  
  
"A guy in a red van came barreling down the street, so I broke his window and got in, and made him drive me here. They cast some kinda spell on me, and I couldn't move, and then one of them took my sword, and then the big one cut a streetlight in half and..."  
  
"Okay, stop right there. One thing at a time. I assume you were poisoned by that cut there? It sure as hell looks like it." Crono nodded.  
  
"Yea I think so, but it's okay now. I feel fine." Cloud shook his head "no".  
  
"This is only temporary. The poison'll keep weakening you until it's out of your body."  
  
"Uh...well...how do we do that? Are you sure I'm not okay? I feel fine..." Crono protested.  
  
"Yes, I'm positive you're not okay. We'll have to get you an antidote for the poison. So I'll leave now and get one from my house, you hang in there, hear?" Crono agreed, but mentioned another thing.  
  
"There's another thing. My friend Leon got hit by the same guys, and I think he's poisoned too. He's in a dumpster on the street where Sector 7 Pizza is, in an alley between some brick apartment and an old abandoned grocery store."  
  
"Alright, I'm on my way."  
  
"Wait, wait, wait just a minute there, cowboy." The pilot grabbed Cloud's arm. "The guy says it's dangerous turf out there, I think it's best we come along." Cloud rolled his eyes.  
  
"Look, it was dangerous for him. I can take care of myself, thank you." He jerked away, but the man grabbed him yet again.  
  
"Listen to me, don't be a damn fool. The last thing we need right now is for you to turn up stiff in the morning. You always gotta bring backup with you." He insisted. Cloud sighed.  
  
"Fine. Who's coming?"  
  
"I wanna stay here. Crono needs help." Yuffie pleaded. Cid shook his head.  
  
"You're right, kid. He does need help. What he doesn't need is some girl cryin' over him while he wastes away. You'll come with us, alright? Tifa, you stay with Crono, if he has a problem, you'd probably know what to do more than any of us." Tifa nodded, and kissed Cloud goodbye.  
  
"Be careful, Cloud." Her husband nodded.  
  
"Thanks, Teef. Will do." He tightened his armlets and made sure the strap on his sword was secure. "Alright, let's move. We need to hurry." The others agreed.  
  
"Take care of him, Tifa." The young girl told her, earnestly. Tifa smiled and gave her a "thumbs up" in a similar respect. She watched as they hurried out the door, weapons at the ready. The woman then turned back to Crono, and said,  
  
"Hey, I just gotta make an announcement, I'll be back in a sec, okay?"  
  
"Sure thing, I'm fine, don't worry about me. That stuff did the trick." She laughed, and went back into the bar, grabbing the PA system at the counter.  
  
"Hey guys, sorry about all the confusion. Everything's under control, one of our customers got hurt outside, and Cloud's going to take care of it. Just sit tight until he's back. Everything's on the house 'till then. Thanks a lot." The patrons were disturbed by the news, yet confident in Cloud's ability to handle the situation. However, a few customers decided to cash in on the hostess' offer, ordering more drinks and food, that she messily jotted down, leaving for her wait staff to tend to. As quickly as she then could, she hurried back into the taproom, checking on the patient.  
  
"How's it going?" She asked. He sat huddled against the arm of the couch, rubbing his arms together and shivering. His eyes hung half-open.  
  
"I'm fine, I guess. It's really cold in here, though." Tifa chuckled in disbelief.  
  
"Are you kidding? If anything, it's a bit warm in here." Crono shook his head, violently.  
  
"Nope...It's pretty damn cold. I'm freezin' in here." She still couldn't bring herself to believe it.  
  
"That's impossible! The thermostat's at...oh no..." It suddenly occurred to her that the poison was taking control once again. "Crono!" She said, "You're getting faint again! You have to hold out!" He shook his head again, pushing the thought aside.  
  
"No...I can't...I'm too tired, uh, 'teef', if that's your name. I just wanna rest here." He told her.  
  
"It's Tifa, but 'teef' is fine. Anyway, listen, you can't give in to the poison. You've gotta fight it with all of your might, you understand? Don't go to sleep, it'll be that much easier for it to take you. I've been poisoned before, it's not easy, but the one thing ya can't do is surrender." She tried her best to explain to him, yet he still lay there in a sleepy daze, not moving an inch. "Crono! Listen to me! You have to get up, no matter how much it hurts. Just get up!"  
  
"I...can't get up. It hurts too much to move...Tifa...I'll be okay as long as I stay here." He stated, stubbornly. She was then forced to take action. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she forced his body to stand on its feet.  
  
"Crono, just hold on a little longer. They'll be back soon." His face had been painted chalk-white, and his skin became colder to the touch.  
  
"I think I'm gonna be sick...Tifa...please...put me down..." She felt terrible refusing, but she had to.  
  
"No, Crono. You've got to stay up."  
  
"I'm...gonna throw up...I..." That was the only hint she needed, as she helped him over to the metal sink in the back of the room by the kegs of alcohol. Still supporting him by his shoulders, she squeamishely winced as Crono began to gag, the hideous black and green poison spewing forth from his mouth into the basin. Staying with him until the last drop of it had left his body, she turned the faucet on, helping to wash down the contents of the sink.  
  
"Are you alright, now?" She asked. He took a few deep breaths, and then stood on his own.  
  
"Yeah...thank you so much...you...you saved my life..." He told her, regretting ever having said anything negative about her. She blushed, waving her hand.  
  
"Ah, it's nothin'. We moms know these things. Speaking of which, I'm gonna get you some water. You probably should wash your mouth out just in case there's anything still in there." Tifa spun on her heel, going out to retrieve a glass from the bar. Meanwhile, Crono let himself crash down on the couch, so thankful that this horrid night was finally almost over.  
  
God damn...wake me up next week sometime...  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
He watched the road before him like a hawk as he slowly drove down it, his headlights on their brightest setting. Glancing down at the dashboard clock, he saw that it was nearing midnight, and they had been driving for about twenty minutes. Over the course of those twenty minutes, there was no sign of the "freaks" that were supposedly out wreaking havoc on innocent people, which made him even more positive that his passengers' presence was unneccesary.  
  
"I'm telling you, there's really no need for you guys to be here. You could be back with Teef, y'know, helping Crono out, or whatever. This is kind of a one-man job, driving a car. I mean, no offense, but you're just dead weight right now. You could be helping Teef, it's a lot of responsibility for her to be in charge of...the bar and Crono. She could use your help...you're not accomplishing anything...really." He rambled in a dry voice. Yuffie rolled her eyes in the back seat, and was about to make a wisecrack about Cloud's arrogance, but Cid stopped her with a subtle gesture of his hand. If something reasonable was going to be said at the moment, Yuffie was not the one to say it.  
  
"Listen there, tiger. We all know you're one of the baddest guys around, you don't have to prove it to us. Just cuz we've got some more people involved doesn't mean we think any less of ya. So you don't have to cross the fine line between 'brave' and 'stupid' to show us you're tough, alright? You're still our man." Cid said, as tactfully as possible. Yuffie covered her mouth, trying to hide her snickering as she waited for Cloud's response. She was sure he'd stop the car and hit the roof any minute now.  
  
"...you mean that?" Cloud said, like he was honestly surprised.  
  
"Of course we mean it. Ya can't replace a Cloud Strife." Cloud was silent for a while, gazing out the windsheild with a faraway look in his eyes.  
  
"I...was afraid, y'know, that this new kid was gonna take my place...gonna push me aside like I was washed up or something. I don't want that to happen..." Citing Cloud's unexpected reaction, Yuffie spoke up.  
  
"Hey, we like Crono, but that's got nothin' to do with you. You're not goin' anywhere, so don't worry about it."  
  
"Thanks, Yuffie." He mused. He drove on for another while, not saying a word, and not really paying attention to the small talk Yuffie and Cid were making in the back seat. In fact, he was so zoned out, that he wouldn't have even noticed anything, had Cid not tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey, uh, Cloud? Those two motorcycles are following us..." he said, slightly nervous. Cloud snapped to attention.  
  
"What? What bikes? Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah, they've been tailing us ever since we passed City Hall. I think we might have found our 'freaks' right here." Cid informed him, putting out his cigar and flicking it out the window.  
  
"Let us out, Cloud. We'll take these two." Yuffie asked, taking up her weapons. Cloud was hesitant to do so.  
  
"Now wait a minute. You can't just go out by yourselves! Crono said these guys were dangerous!"  
  
"Look, he also said there were three of them, and he also said Leon was hurt too. We can't waste time fighting if no one is going to get Leon and the antidote. Just let us out, we'll handle these two, you look for the bigger guy." She instructed, not waiting for his reply to unfasten her seatbelt, and pop her door open. Cloud slammed on the brakes, almost throwing her from the vehicle.  
  
"Dammit, Yuffie! Wait for me to stop first!" She got out of the car, Cid accompanying her. They briefly wished Cloud luck, before slamming the doors shut, and letting him go on his way. Drawing their weapons into clear view, they turned towards the motorcyclists, who were slowing their bikes down, and preparing to dismount. Yuffie cocked her arm, shuriken in hand, ready to launch and aerial assault at a second's notice. Looking to the bikers, she couldn't tell much about their appearances, as they were clad in dark clothing, and wore opaque black helmets upon their heads, which covered their faces completely.  
  
"Ahoy, there! You must be Crono's friends, come out to play, I see. Well then, boys and girls, what's the name of the game?" The taller, thinner driver crowed, walking towards them, the other not far behind him.  
  
"Don't say anything, just stay focused." Cid whispered to her. She glared at her opponents, particularly the louder one.  
  
"Well then, if you happen to come across Crono, tell him I absolutely love his sword. I'm enjoying it as we speak." He taunted, bringing the katana with the unmistakable prismatic blade out in front of him. Yuffie decided to strike first, letting the shuriken fly towards him, flicking her wrist out as she released it. Startled as he was, he still was able to parry the incoming weapon, sending it clanking to the ground. Not waiting for his counterattack, Yuffie drew her knife, and rolled forward, rising mere feet from him, fully intending to retrieve her Conformer, and Crono's sword as well.  
  
"Hand it over, stick." She demanded, snatching up her throwing star from the ground. The man chuckled.  
  
"Right...and just what are you going to do to me if I don't? Bite me? Scratch me? Kick me in the shins? Throw another one of your little toys at me? Heaven forbid...I'm shaking, little girl, shaking." His total mockery of her more than burned her nerves. Shouting out a Wutaise battle cry, she lunged at him, a flurry of fists pummeling his midsection. As she began dragging him down, she saw that Cid had already engaged the other, who faught with a long staff. Their long pole arms clacked against each other rapidly, their fight just as intense as Yuffie's was.  
  
"Not so tough are ya now, jerk?" She insulted, driving another blow into his stomach. She figured that once she'd ensured that this guy would not breathe correctly for the next month, she would then go and retrieve the katana that lay in the street beside them. However, what she wasn't figuring, was the overturn her opponent made, reaching up and grabbing her by the shoulders, and rolling completely over backwards, so that she was the one with her back to the concrete. With incredible agility he pinned his knees against her elbows, and slammed the heel of his palm against her face in one swift motion. She flinched in shock, not knowing how something like this could be happening. She had him beat just a moment ago, and was just finishing up rubbing it in his face, when know he was the one gloating.  
  
"Ah, the little wildcat is tamed. I must admit, you fought better than others, but your stupidity makes up for that. Hey, look on the bright side, maybe next time you'll win. Of course, assuming there will be a next time. Assuming I'm nice enough not to kill you right here and now for getting in my way." He berated her, laughing as she struggled to push him away, and laughing even harder at the way she tried not to show any sign of pain or defeat as he continued to hit her.  
  
"What'ssa matter? You're not gonna cry, girlie? I thought all little girls cried when they got hit." Her face trembled as she bit her lip and closed her eyes to prevent the tears from flowing over. Her nose was bleeding, and the side of her face stung to the point of numbness. She wasn't sure how long she could hold out before giving into the pain, until...all of a sudden, everything stopped. The hitting stopped, his taunting stopped, and even his weight seemed to have been lifted off of her. She opened her eyes, wiping away the tears with her hand.  
  
Cid had her opponent in a stranglehold with his spear, mercilessly choking the breath out of him as he scrambled to free himself, futiley. Unusually, Cid spewed no explatives, shouted no insults, and was without his usual grimace that he wore to battle. Instead, he just continued to gag the assailant, staring blankly out into space. Yuffie stood up, brushing herself off, and walked over toward Cid.  
  
"You gonna let him go?" She asked, observing the squirming body that seemed to be growing slower by the moment. Cid looked at her.  
  
"Do you want me to?" He asked her.  
  
"Let him go." She said, her voice shaking.  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked her again, unsure why she would want this cretin to take another breath.  
  
"Let him go!" She shouted, stamping her foot. Cid uneasily released his hold on the man's neck, letting him fall gasping downward. She watched as he crawled around, pitifully, drawing short breaths through his compressed throat. The other attacker lay motionless by his motorbike, a broken staff at his side.  
  
"That one wasn't too much trouble. He was shy as a kitten, and not much stronger. This little bitch was a different story...sorry ya got mixed up with 'im." the pilot exlpained. She shook her head, and bent down to her enemy, lifting his torso up by the collar of his shirt, glaring into what most likely was his face.  
  
"You listen to me, asshole. If I ever catch you around here again, I'll kill you. Understand me?" She demanded. His head nodded, and he muttered something that she couldn't make heads or tails of. "I can't hear you!" She screamed, kicking him in the stomach as hard as she could.  
  
"Yes!" He grunted in severe pain. She let go of his shirt, kicking him one last time as he fell back down. For a moment, she stood there, unsure of what to do next.  
  
"C'mon, kid, let's go back to the bar. Cloud'll be there soon. We'll leave these losers here, they won't bother anyone anymore." She nodded, picking up her weapons and Crono's sword as well. Throughout the walk back, he periodically asked her,  
  
"Are you okay, kid?" and she would wait a moment and say,  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." and he'd say something like,  
  
"You're a brave kid. Anyone else I know woulda been sobbing like a baby. You're made of tough stuff, kid. Be proud of that." and she would nod and smile, but deep down inside, it took all she had not to burst into tears, but she knew she had to wait. She had to wait until she was with Crono, and then she would cry. And whent she did cry, he would run his fingers through her hair and kiss her, and tell her that everything would be okay, and that she was safe with him, and that he wished he could've been there to save her...  
  
Then she would cry...  
  
THE END  
  
part nine 


	10. Patience & Panic

ADVERSARY  
  
  
  
Midgar, Sector 7, 0004 A.D.  
  
The storefronts and other downtown buildings passed by his open window as he examined each and every one of them carefully, not wanting to pass by the right place. Although Crono's description wasn't terrible, he certainly could've been a little more specific as to the nature of the grocery store and apartment building that the alley lay between. Yet it wasn't right to blame him, for downtown Sector Seven was not high on the list of things that Crono was familiar with. However, as he was nowhere within earshot, it seemed harmless to Cloud at the moment to do so.  
  
"Damn him...could he have been a little more vague? Doesn't he realize that there are a lot of grocery stores and apartments in this whole city? And this is main street...the longest goddamn street in this sector. Ugh...everything looks abandoned at night...this is impossible." He grumbled to the empty car. In his rant, another car almost ran into him, a wake-up call to stay on task. Yet it wasn't long before more distracting thoughts entered his head, drawing his attention elsewhere.  
  
I wonder how Cid and Yuffie are coming along...they can probably handle themselves. It was only two guys...they've taken on a lot of tough stuff in the past...they're probably fine. I'm just worrying for no reason...  
  
And then he began to wonder about his wife, and if she was handling Crono all right. He knew she was good with medical dillemas, but he just hoped nothing bizarre had happened. After all, there was no antidote handy, and the poison had already had enough time to fully intoxicate him, and...  
  
There was someone standing in the middle of the road, directly in front of his car! It was almost as if they'd appeared out of nowhere by the time Cloud saw them. The tires squealed against the pavement as he swerved way to the right, the vehicle skidding to an abrupt stop, his forehead slamming into the steering wheel. As his equilibrium began to settle, he rubbed his eyes gently, trying to calm himself down enough to drive again. But then...  
  
I'd better see if that guy is okay...just in case...I don't think I hit him...but just in case...  
  
He unbuckled his seat belt, and opened the driver's side door, stepping out. He looked up and down the full length of the street twice, yet there was nobody around.  
  
That's odd...  
  
He'd considered furthering his search more, but he assumed that if he had infact injured anyone, they would still be lying in the street where he'd last seen them. Nevertheless, he turned back to his car and slid back into the open door, slamming it closed behind him. As he pulled the seatbelt over his chest, and took hold of the wheel once again, he noticed the absence of one essential item.  
  
"Where the hell are my keys?" He groped the seat beside him, and felt around on the floor with his feet, and eventually finally heard their familiar jingling.  
  
Eminating from behind him...  
  
Cloud froze, the bizarre revalation that he was not alone in his car making the hair stand on the back of his neck. Whoever was continuously ringing the pieces of metal together, was beckoning him to turn around and face them. Nervous as he was, Cloud knew that if he did not engage his enemy, he surely would be attacked from behind, starting him off at a great disadvantage in the fight.  
  
"Gimme back my..." His vocal chords locked as turned, looking his passenger in the face. The face he knew so well...the face that painted his dreams as they ran through his unconscious head, the face that shaped his childhood and aspirations...the face that haunted his mind every night before he slept...  
  
Sephiroth.  
  
A black gloved hand flicked its wrist out, sending the ring of keys to the fabric on the passenger's seat below. The hand returned back to its body, resting itself down in its lap. The colossal man reclined casually in the back seat, looking calmly back at his former arch-rival. An almost invisible smile played across his lips as he watched Cloud shake and sweat, completely speechless. He loved to see the "strong" fall weak before him.  
  
The somewhat large luxury car seemed like a sardine can to Cloud at the moment, and the walls seemed to be closing in, suffocating him, pinning him against almost seven-and-a-half feet of pure terror.  
  
This can't be happening...It's...not...possible!!  
  
Cloud's dimly glowing eyes spoke his thoughts out loud, the Fallen Angel's responding in kind.  
  
And yet it is happening, Cloud...  
  
No...you're dead! You can't hurt anyone anymore! I slew you with my own hands!  
  
Denying what lies in front of your very face...you haven't changed a bit, Strife...I'm afraid you're stubbornness will be the death of you yet...  
  
"NO!!!" Cloud screamed, thrashing his way out of the front seat, and kicking his door open. He tumbled out into the street in a heap, scrambling back up with all four of his limbs propelling him. He had no direction, no destination, no plan, his only thought was to flee. To run like hell, and never stop. To run straight out to the far corners of the universe, where no one, not even Sephiroth could find him.  
  
Well...I was wrong...you have changed. The Cloud Strife I knew was not a craven coward...  
  
The eerie voice echoed within his brain, yet the challenge left him unfazed. His pride was the least of his worries at the moment.  
  
You disappoint me, Strife...you really do...  
  
As much as he hated the tormenting, he couldn't let his ego get the best of him again. It was dark, he was tired, and who knows what slew of destruction lay at the Dark One's fingertips. A fight would be a mistake, a mistake that Cloud would most likely not walk away from.  
  
I always knew that under the "braveheart" was a weakling...I never thought you'd admit it...but that's alright. There's more than one way to destroy a man that to kill him...  
  
He closed his eyes tightly, clenching his teeth.  
  
There's always his family...  
  
His heels ground into the asphalt, stopping his retreat completely, as he turned around once again, eyes ablaze. Sephiroth stood towering above the roof of the car, several hundred feet away from Cloud.  
  
Ah...that's more like it...  
  
His "words" hit a spot within Cloud, a spot that would always acheive the same reaction if touched, no matter what the previous events had been. Even if an army stood in his way, he would fight until the very last breath of life had left his body should those he held dear be threatened. His weapon held out to the side, he charged back at his still enemy, their eyes never breaking contact.  
  
You are so predictable...you really are...  
  
His lips pulled back into an expression like a grin, only one of rage, as a lion bares its fangs. His pace quickened, the gap rapidly closing between he and Sephiroth.  
  
Come on...rid the universe of evil...take me down...destroy me...you did it before, surely you can do it again...  
  
"You're damn right I can." Cloud growled, and with a yell, he jumped up high, bringing his blade down straight at his target. However, it was no surpirise when the shriek of the Masamune was heard, milliseconds before he felt his sword slam against a veritable wall. Cloud's feet awkwardly hit the ground, almost causing him to lose his balance, as he pulled his weapon back, defensively, twisting away from a lightning-fast kick that almost seemed to appear out of nowhere. His confidence raised, Cloud then took to the offensive.  
  
Feinting high and ducking low, the ex-SOLDIER swung hard down at Sephiroth's legs, the edge making definite damaging contact before an evasion was made. Now Cloud was the one with the wicked smile, the fight clearly in his favor. Not wasting any time or any of his good fortune, he rose up on his legs, striking hard and repeatedly, not penetrating any flesh, but driving Sephiroth back, forcefully. Clearly unamused, the Dark One lashed back with the Masamune, with equal force and double speed. Cloud dropped and rolled sideways to attack Sephiroth's flank, keeping the Buster Sword above him, as it blocked the Masamune's snakebites.  
  
Unfortunately, by the time Cloud was up and ready, Sephiroth was and had been waiting for several seconds. The man with the long silver hair dodged his panicked attack, relishing as the blonde stumbled to the side. Cloud stopped himself from falling down completely with his hand, still retaining his sword with the other. Taking in a deep breath, he reversed back toward the enemy, as psyched up as ever. Yet this time, it was was different...  
  
The black leather hand was open and extended, fingers bent and loosely pointing out like artillery on a warship. His eyes shone, flashing white and green, faster and faster, mesmerizing Cloud, who stood completely prone to the magical devistation he knew was coming. As the blast of radiant light surged into him, as his body exlpoded in pain, and as he felt himself flying backwards through the air, he only thought of those flashing eyes that seemed to be laughing in his face.  
  
Pathetic...  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The cold sensation of the ice compress stung her face as she held it there for what seemed like hours. Though she had to admit that the discomfort was worth it, as it helped to dull a pain much greater than the chill. But she wasn't complaining. She'd been through much more painful things than this, and, she thought, looking over at Crono who was asleep on the sofa, there were some that were worse off than her. At least her injuries were simple, and didn't involve infectious poisons.  
  
"Say, where the hell is that guy? We've been here for almost and hour! I think whatever we ran into he coulda handled no sweat." Cid remarked, nervously, tapping his fingers on the table next to his chair. Yuffie glanced over at him, taking the ice off of her jaw to speak.  
  
"He'll be fine. Don't worry 'bout it. For gawd's sake, he took on Sephiroth before! Nothin' out there is gonna, like, even come close to Sephiroth. Those geeks in the street sure didn't." Across the room, Tifa sat quietly, observing the scene.  
  
It's funny...Cid's ususally the one talking sense into Yuffie...now it's the other way around...  
  
She'd been forced to let the customers and wait staff leave at their own demand, for she had no actual reason to detain them, and with a smile, she wished them all a safe trip home, and thanked them for coming to the Seventh Heaven. So now, it was just her, Yuffie, Cid, and an exhausted, sleeping Crono present in the large building. The normally loud, bursting with energy, alive with people club suddenly seemed dead and desolate. It certainly didn't aid her in her attempt to keep from worrying herself sick about her husband.  
  
"So you say the guys you tangled with weren't too much trouble for you?" Tifa asked, again.  
  
"Yeah. Not too much trouble. We took 'em down pretty quick. Right, kid?" Cid said, as reassuring as possible. Yuffie nodded in agreement, but didn't make an effort to say anything, the uncomfortable silence ensuing again. Before it became too much to bear, Tifa tried one last time to strike up a conversation.  
  
"So...Yuffie. Tell me some more about how these past few years have been for you." She almost begged. Yuffie subtley rolled her eyes, and threw the ice to the table, unable to talk with it covering most of her face.  
  
"Well, y'know, I went back to Wutai after the war ended. I spent about two years there. But, well, my dad and his council and all the people who expected me to be "responsible" were really driving me crazy, so when my eighteenth birthday came, I just was like, "see you guys later! (Not!)" And I headed out with some of my friends from Wutai, Mia and Shio. So for like, from the time I left Wutai, to the week before I came back here, we were just traveling around. Goofing off and having a ton of fun. It did me a world of good, too." The words came easily after she started.  
  
"So, why did you stop?" Tifa asked.  
  
"Ah, they decided that they didn't wanna spend their whole lives moving from one place to the next, so they went back to Wutai."  
  
"You didn't want to go with them?"  
  
"I did, I just didn't really feel like going back to Wutai. That's when I just said to myself 'hey...I wonder what the old gang's up to.' So I dropped by your place, and there you all were."  
  
"We missed you. We were always wondering where you were..." Yuffie looked down, a hint of shame in her eyes.  
  
"Yeah...I'm sorry guys. I just kinda wanted to leave it all behind, and, well, I did. But I realized that there were a lot of things I really missed about my old life. And, well, here I am."  
  
"Glad to have ya back, kid. Stay for a while." Cid told her. She chuckled.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." She said, looking over at Crono, who was snoring softly. "Hope he wakes up soon..." She mumbled, hopefully.  
  
"Heh. I don't think so. Not after what he's been through."  
  
"Yeah...I guess so..." She started, but then stopped, her head cocking sideways. "Did you hear that?"  
  
"No. What?"  
  
"That! It...it sounds like a bell!"  
  
"What the hell are you talkin' about, kid? Ain't no bells in here! Must be your head ringing." But the sound grew louder, and more definite it became that there was in fact, a bell in the vicinity. Tifa perked up.  
  
"I recognize that! That's the service bell in the bar! Someone must be here." She sprang out of her seat, hoping desperately that it was Cloud playing a little joke on her.  
  
"Hey! The place is closed! Dont'cha think a customer could tell that from the sign on the door?!" Cid protested.  
  
"Relax, Cid. No evil attacker is gonna ring my service- holy shit!!!" She exclaimed. Immediately, her two companions rushed to her side, gasping at the sight before them.  
  
Standing at the counter, was a large, menacing looking character with vampiric features and long blue hair that formed a widow's peak in the front. He was postured awkwardly, with one finger tapping the silver button on the bell repeatedly. The man seemed to take no notice to their beguiled expressions, and kept ringing the device, impatiently.  
  
"Who the...what the hell are you!?" Yuffie stammered.  
  
"I am Magus. I am waiting to be assisted." He replied, calmly, still clanging away.  
  
"Whaddya mean you're Magus?! Who the...stop ringing that fuckin' bell, willya!" She commanded, through gritted teeth. Again, he refused.  
  
"This tag instructs me to 'ring bell for assistance', which is precisely what I'm going to do until I am assisted. So you can just calm down, young lady." Magus ordered.  
  
"Why, I oughta..." She tried to move for the visitor, but Cid held her back, struggling to keep her still. "Cid!! Lemme go! C'mon, Cid! Cut it out!"  
  
"You'll, um, have to excuse her, she's had a rough night. Er...how may I help you, sir?" Tifa asked, stepping up to the counter. He finally stopped ringing the bell, and turned his attention toward the hostess.  
  
"Yes, this is the Seventh Heaven bar and club, correct?" He asked, nonchalantly.  
  
"Um...yes it is." She replied.  
  
"And is there a...Tifa Strife present in this establishment?" He inquired, looking at a small piece of paper.  
  
"Yes, that would be me. What's going on? Who wants to know?" At this point, she was more than a little nervous. Magus sighed. That only made things worse. "What's going on?!" She repeated, totally panicked.  
  
"It's about your husband..." He let it hang, ominously. Her mouth opened, devoid of noise.  
  
"Wh...what's wrong? Is he okay? Where is he!?" She spewed the questions, rapidly.  
  
"He is...injured. Very injured..." Was all the mage could manage to say to her. Tears began to spill over her face, and her open lips shook like branches in the wind. "I found him, and I relocated his and another's body to the house I have been staying at. I've tended to there injuries as much as I can, but healing is not my skill. I know only very basic things about medicine. Your name and establishment was mentioned on Mr. Strife's identification cards, so I decided to..."  
  
"We have to hurry then! He could be dying! Cid, Yuffie, come on! We'll use your car, Yuffie. Give Cid your keys!" Tifa instructed. Yuffie hesitated.  
  
"What about Crono? We can't leave him here alone! I'll go get him. Here, Cid." She gave the pilot her car keys, pushing past him back into the taproom, where the redheaded Kensai slumbered. She dropped to her knees beside him, and nudged his back gently.  
  
"Uhhh..." He protested, burying himself deeper into the cushions. Not wanting to waste any time, she pulled on his ear, forcing him instantly awake. "Ack! What? What!?" He shouted, looking this way and that, completly startled.  
  
"Shh. Shhh...come on, we have to go somewhere. C'mon." She put her arms under his, and pulled him up off the couch, and up onto his feet. He blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up on such short notice. Holding him by the wrist, she led him out of the now empty restaurant, and into the open door of her car, which was almost full to capacity, and she slid in before him. Cid was to drive, with Magus instructing him on how to reach his destination from the passengers side, Tifa sitting between them, wanting a first hand view of everything, which made it rather crowded in the front seat.  
  
Crono, still in a daze, sat down in the back seat next to Yuffie, blinking yet a few more times. His mind was completely incoherent, he hadn't even realized yet that Magus was around, or that this was his first time in a car, or even that just hours before, he'd been fighting for his life against mysterious enemies. Resting his head back against the leather, he closed his eyes, tried not to think about anything, and just let himself feel the ground moving under him quietly, as Magus, Cid, and Tifa conversed about what had happened to Cloud and where he was right now.  
  
He remembered smiling as she wrapped her arms around his waist, and she kissed him lightly on the face and mumbled an apology in his ear. And he remembered how warm she was compared to the cold air, and he even remembered the way her hair fell into his as he rested his head on her shoulder, sinking back into his over-deprived sleep.  
  
Thank you...  
  
THE END  
  
part ten 


	11. Like Family

ADVERSARY  
  
Guardia Castle, 1004 A.D.  
  
Pain...  
  
Never before had he felt so much pain.  
  
So this is what it's like to be defeated...  
  
His body ached. Nauseating pains racketed through him as he inhaled and exhaled, and even the slightest motion of his limbs burned like the devil.  
  
This is what it's like to...fail...  
  
Tears of shame formed in his eyes, his cheeks burned, and he held his breath so no one could hear his shaky gasps. Turning his eyes sideways, he could make out the shape of his older brother, sitting up on his bed, running a cloth over his blade. The room was almost pitch dark, except for the small stream of light that flooded in from the door, and shed a dim golden glow upon the outskirts of the room. He wasn't worried though, he knew his sibling couldn't see him, for he'd just as soon mistaken him to be asleep, and was concentrating on polishing his sword, not babysitting his "little brother".  
  
Ironically, that's exactly how he was feeling right now. Little. Insecure, defenseless, timid, and fragile. He missed his parents. He missed the odd chemistry that flowed between them, and he missed their attention. He missed his mother's kind words and his father's detached guidance. They seemed so far away now, and every day he felt more and more out of place in this strange new world. He sighed. He wished he could be more like his brother, confident and sarcastic. It seemed like whatever happened to him, he could just laugh it off with a snyde remark and keep walking. It didn't seem to bother him that he'd been defeated in combat. He'd fought and lost, tried and failed. He primarily blamed it on the fact that he'd been "double teamed" by the two fighters, and had that "goddamned pilot" not interfered, that "stupid little bitch" would've been good and dead.  
  
But his brother had put up a good fight. He'd at least lost with some honor, some consollation in the fact that he'd fought a decent battle, and didn't give up under pressure. Elianor, however, could not say the same for himself. He couldn't even remember much of what had happened, and was left with few memories, and a great deal of suffering. His eyes closed, recalling the scene...  
  
It had all happened so quickly. The instant he brought out his staff, the large man was attacking him relentlessly, his long spear cracking and slamming dangerously against Elianor's weapon. The pilot was a veritable grizzly bear, and he showed the young warrior no mercy whatsoever. It didn't take long for him to break through Elianor's weak defense and start driving in poweful blows. From the moment the first attack connected with his flesh, everything sort of faded out into a blur and he soon found himself passing out on the asphalt next to his broken, useless weapon.  
  
He sighed. How he wished that he could've landed a few strikes here and there, or just held out his defense a little longer...then he wouldn't have to feel so bad about everything. But now...he was just filled with a saddening shame, one that would surely submerge when he faced his parents...  
  
The door swung open, and the room was instantly illuminated, both young men turning their attention toward the doorway. A young woman with golden hair, clad in a white dress was standing calmly in the entranceway, curiously looking at the two people that lay on the beds in the room. Elianor forced himself to sit up, and noticed a devilish grin spreading over his brother's face, who quickly sheathed his sword and leaned forward, very interested, all of a sudden.  
  
"Hello there, I'm Princess Nadia." She said, rather formally. "I understand that you two gentlemen have some injuries that need tending to?" Alex smiled.  
  
"Oh thank goodness...someone finally got one of our letters! You see, we've been lying here for months and no one's come to see us, and we started writing notes on little pieces of garbage we found on the floor and pushing them out the door, hoping someone would find us, but no one would ever stop by, what with the terrible draft and all, but just look what happened! They sent us an angel, straight from the heavens..." He said, most sincerely. The princess blushed. Elianor rolled his eyes.  
  
"Wh-why thank you, sir...um...sir..." she stammered, caught completely off guard. The eldest brother stood up and bowed, one arm bent slightly behind his back.  
  
"Alexander. Alexander Sephiroth Gainsborough...at your service, my leige." He rose back up, standing a few feet from her. She stared up at him in awe. He was tall, magnificent, and undoubtedly graceful.  
  
And most of all, he's not a cold jerk like his father...  
  
"Well then, Sir Alexander...I understand that you two are the sons of Sephiroth, the man that is working for my father." She stated, expecting a positive confirmation.  
  
"Indeed we are. Allow me to introduce my brother, Elianor. Elianor, this is Princess Nadia." The younger brother merely waved his hand, and uttered,  
  
"Hello..." Marle and Alex laughed, making Elianor's face redden.  
  
"Well, he certainly is quite the conversationalist, Alex. You two sure have a lot in common!" She teased.  
  
"Yep. He gets it from my side of the family. Anyway, I don't need much tending to at all. My brother here, however, recieved quite a beating. You might want to take a look at him." he gloated. She looked at him, conspicuously.  
  
"That's funny, you're neck looks like it's been wrung full around...and your clutching at your stomach a lot...you sure you're okay?" Alex was annoyed.  
  
"Yes, I'm positive. I'm absolutely fine. Nothing a little rest won't cure. Say, if you're not doing anything later, we could always..."  
  
"I'd better take a look at your brother here." She cut him off, walking over towards Elianors bed. He seemed uneasy around her, watching her every movement, and tensing up the places she was examining. It became so obvious that he was uncomfortable, that Nadia couldn't resist asking.  
  
"What's wrong? Am I hurting you or something?"  
  
"N-no. You're just...I, I'm fine, actually. I can take care of myself, I just needed a little sleep, that's all. I'll be okay. Don't you worry." She looked at him, puzzled.  
  
"Okay then! Now that that's out of the way, we can finish up here, and go..." Alex started, but again he was interrupted when he noticed his father lingering outside the door, impatiently. His expression instantly changed from flirtatious to extremely worried. "Nadia, I think we have to go. I'll see you later...just a minute, father." He and his brother gathered up what few possessions they had with them, and left the room, leaving Nadia standing there, wondering...  
  
What in the world is going on here? And why haven't I been told about anything...?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------  
  
They followed close behind him, neither of them saying a word. Worrysome glances were exchanged between them, as they dreaded the pending conversation with their soon-to-be furious father. As Sephiroth opened the door to a large, dark chamber within the castle, the boys took one last look at each other before continuing into the room.  
  
He stood with his back to them, gazing out a stained-glass window, his great shadow falling on the floor in the arc of light. Neither son knew what to do, and Sephiroth seemed like he had no intention of striking up a conversation any time soon, so Alexander decided to play dumb and hope for the best.  
  
"Father? Is there something you wanted to talk to us about?" He asked, nervously. Sephiroth's shoulders heaved, and he glanced over his shoulder at them, soon returning his stare to the window.  
  
"We...we were able to detain the Wutaise girl and the pilot man for a while. I hope it provided enough time for you to...to confront the man you were looking for..." Elianor timidly tried his luck. Again Sephiroth looked over his shoulder, but this time, turned around shortly afterward.  
  
"If you are referring to Strife, then you obviously haven't been listening to anything I've been saying for the past several weeks, Elianor. I don't have any interest in Cloud. He means nothing to me. He is a puppet. A foolish puppet that is disillusioned enough to think that he has a soul and a free will. He is not what I'm here for."  
  
"B-but...he is the most powerful man in this plain! He is the one that prevented your conquest! He is the one that lead all the other's to..." Alexander shoved his brother hard, silencing him with a detesting glare.  
  
"Strife is but a pest to me. His power is formidable, yes, but he means nothing to us. He has already served his purpose. The true key now lies within the other man..." The Dark One trailed off. Alexander began to protest.  
  
"You mean that idiot, Crono? The punk that the king of this castle wants you to bag for some land? What in the hell do you possibly want with him? He's nothing compared to Cloud Strife. Nothing." Sephiroth's eyes glowered, and his disposition darkened.  
  
"You are a fool, Alexander. Strife may be an experienced adult, his powers at their full extent, but he lacks the key elements Crono posesses. The Kensai has no idea who he is, where he is from, or what his true destiny is. He is as blind to fate as a newborn child. Great powers reside deep within him, and his arts are dangerous and unpredictable. Once he enters his prime, however, his powers will be limitless. Which is why, my sons, he must be dealt with immediately." He explained in a low voice. Alexander nodded.  
  
"So we just hunt him down again, which isn't too hard, and we grab him, mess him up a bit, and haul him back here. End of story. What does that leave us? It leaves us with a bunch of land in a medieval kingdom, that's what." he shrugged. "Sounds easy enough."  
  
"You're right about one thing, Alexander. We shall capture him...however we will not be turning him over to Guardia. That would be an unforgiveable waste of his power, not to mention he would most likely destroy the entire castle and simply walk away with some minor wounds. They underestimate him greatly. It is all part of the weaknesses inherent in their social heirarchy. Crono was born a peasant, so the story goes, and was looked down upon throughout his whole childhood. But nevertheless, we will be putting him to much better use, better than anything these idiotic Guardians would put him to..." And with that, he turned and left, Elianor calling after him,  
  
"But what about the land we were promised? I thought that was important..."  
  
"It is indeed important. But, you will see more as time progresses. You should have a word with your mother. She's upstairs in one of the guest's chambers. Goodbye." Alexander shrugged.  
  
"There goes pops, cryptic-as-ever. Ya think he could maybe be a little more vague?" he murmered, as he walked out of the room, Elianor following at his heels, deep in thought.  
  
More powerful than Strife? That's...impossible. Especially from what Mother has said about him...  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------  
  
The great throne encumbered his movements as he rushed through the royal agenda, discarding the unimportant matters. The last week had indeed kept him on his toes, as it had done to most other people in the world. Yet he was also left to deal with the shady new cast of characters that had arrived at the castle...  
  
There was the loudmouthed boy and his taciturn brother, both were rarely seen unaccompanied by the other. They seemed to create a balance between each other, and in an eerie sort of way, almost shared a consciousness that helped them work together.  
  
Then there was their great, shadowed father, whom towered over all, and commanded affairs with a terrifying force. Even the king himself was extremely intimidated by him. He hoped that the man could be controlled until his objective had been completed.  
  
"Sire...you have a visitor. It is one of the special agents." The guard kneeled before him. Guardia raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Which one? Lord Sephiroth or his sons? I'm slightly busy right now, I-" He stopped speaking, as the black hooded figure walked into view. It bore a long staff, and came up beside the kneeling guard.  
  
"Excuse me, your highness." It spoke. A definite woman's voice, clear and soft. He was shocked at this.  
  
"Erm...yes? What can I do for you, m'lady?" He set his papers aside. She said nothing at first, but then finally mused.  
  
"I...I need to talk to you. It's about my husband and sons..."  
  
"Your husband and sons? Who might they be?"  
  
"...The men you have employed to hunt down and destroy that other man. I am concerned for their safety, your Highness." He looked at her quizzically, squinting to see the shaded face under the hood. She was young, astoundingly beautiful, and certainly did not look like she could possibly be the mother of either of those two older teens.  
  
"Are you sure? Sephiroth is your husband?" She nodded slowly.  
  
Well then...I can't turn her away...  
  
"Have a seat over there." He motioned. "Please...tell me your concerns." The woman uneasily took the seat, and laid her weapon across the arms of the chair. She dropped the hood back, revealing all of her face.  
  
"For the past week I've been recieving mixed messages from my...family. I would like to know more about the issue than I've been being told."  
  
"Certainly, anything you would like to know I can tell you, ma'am." He replied, acting concerned.  
  
"Well...why is it so important that you detain this man? Is he that important to you, that you must dedicate all of your rescources to capturing him? Honestly, your majesty, why not let him be? He's nothing but trouble for you, from what I understand."  
  
"I undserstand your concerns, miss, but there is a deeper issue. We have a strict criminal justice system here in Guardia. Those who harm the kingdom will be brought to justice no matter what. It is the way we run things around here. A zero-tolerance policy, if you will." She sighed.  
  
"But what will killing him, if that's what you intend to do, solve? Whatever he has done to you will still be done...it won't accomplish anything..." She trailed off. The king tried to smile, reassuringly.  
  
"Listen, I understand you are concerned about your husband and children, but surely Crono is no match for them. I know him, and he has been smiled upon by fate many at time, yet I fear his luck is at the end of it's rope. One cannot be fortunate forever. We'll get him, you'll be rewarded, and all will be settled. Please do not worry. Everything is in the hands of experts...miss? Where are you going?" She hurried out of the throne room, cloak trailing behind her. Her words were not reaching any permeable brains. She was running out of options.  
  
Please...let this madness end...  
  
THE END  
  
part eleven 


	12. A Three Hour Tour

ADVERSARY  
  
Ferry En Route To Costa Del Sol, 0004 N.C.E.  
  
The warm ocean air filled his lungs as he watched the golden drops of sunlight dance across the moving surface of the waves. His eyes closed and he breathed out, relaxing his mind, and concentrating on the ebb and flow of the water beneath him. The peace and serenity did him a world of good. He needed a break from all the stress and strain the last week had put him through. It was a shame...he practically never got a chance to meditate anymore, never really had time to just sit back and enjoy the precious silence.  
  
It was only mere days ago that he'd been lying in a stark white taproom fighting a deadly poison, and he'd been rushed away in a car to Leon's apartment, where Leon himself, along with Cloud, lay unconscious and seriously injured and ill. To his surprise, Lucca was there too, she had started to recover, with Magus' assistance. It was at that point that everything began to become extremely confusing, and Crono had stopped trying to make any sense out of it whatsoever. Tifa and Cid had used strange jewel-like objects to tend to Leon and Cloud's injuries, which were visibly healed almost immediately. However, the jewels apparently didn't take away all of the discomfort they both were experiencing the whole time.  
  
They referred to these jewels as "Materia", and their various effects certaintly fascinated Crono, who watched in awe as they worked their magic time after time. It was nothing like the internally-generated elemental energy he was familiar with. That kind of magic was difficult to master, and often draining and somewhat painful to employ, so Crono only used it when it was absolutely necessary. He much preferred using his sword and body as a weapon. Nothing else paralleled the comfort and ease he felt there.  
  
He felt the boat jar slightly as the clank of his heels against the cabin steps echoed in the aluminum corridor. Taking hold of the lever on the right side of the riveted door, he popped open the latch, sliding the metal away, granting himself access to the room beyond. Inside, his friend sat casually in one of the chairs, flipping through a comic book with one hand, and drinking a soda with the other.  
  
"What's goin' down, bro?" Leon greeted him, not looking up from his reading.  
  
"Me. I've had enough of the upper deck. I figured I'd just hang down here for a while." Crono replied, falling back down onto the bed across the room. His friend nodded.  
  
"Coolness. Wanna soda?" he offered, still not breaking eye contact with the "book". Crono declined.  
  
"Nah...I don't really need anything right now. Hey, by the way, how are you? Feeling any better?" Leon nodded, and cracked open another bottle.  
  
"Sure man, peachy. Materia works wonders, if ya can get your hands on some."  
  
"Yeah...that stuff is really cool..."  
  
"Hey, you should talk to Yuffie about it. She knows her materia pretty damn well. I hear she used to make a business movin' the stuff a few years back. Now the stuff is hard as hell to find, so it's not much of an active business...but then again, if you get some, you can hike the shit up to a few mil' and get a buyer overnight." He explained, very proud of his knowledge. Crono was amazed.  
  
"Damn, that sounds like some nice cash. Back where I come from, they use refined gold as currency. It's crazy...heavy as hell too. I like this gil stuff way more. It makes a lot more sense...almost everything here does, when I think about it." Leon laughed in disbelief.  
  
"Dude, no way. If you lived here like, six years ago, you'd be singin' a different tune. The whole place used to be run by the freakin' ShinRa and the Turks and that whole mess of punkasses. It used to be hell, man. The only people with decent lives were the people lucky enough to have it in with the company, otherwise you had to slum it somewhere, live like a fucking dog, and then kiss the feet of whatever asshole shmuck in a suit came swaggering around your town acting like you owed him your life whenever he felt like it. I swear, I used to wanna punch the punk bitches from here to Junon, but I'd'a gotten a bullet in my skull if I even tried." He ranted, glowing with emotion.  
  
"Well, I...uh...I guess every place has got its ups and downs."  
  
"...Yeah, well I guess you got your up out of it, if ya know what I mean." Leon snickered.  
  
"Oh, don't start...just don't..."  
  
"I'm tellin' ya man, babes change everything. They mess up your mind. Get yourself a chick, and everything's great, then suddenly somethin' comes and knocks ya off your cloud and you realize that maybe everything wasn't so great after all. That's why I don't get myself caught up in that commitment shit. It's just not for me. Now, you on the other hand...you got that whole noble thing goin' on. And you got a bangin' chick knockin' at your front door. The world is cutting you a break, my man. Catch it while you can, or you, like, just might wind up another average Joe, y'know?"  
  
"But...I just...I...I don't know. I guess I just don't want to get pinned down again. Get sucked into something where I can't be me. Be with someone who doesn't want me for what I am." He shook his head.  
  
"Dude, your last girlfriend fucked you over, that's all well and good, but this is different, man. She's a new person."  
  
"I know, I know. And I like Yuffie, but..." Leon cut him off.  
  
"Why?" Crono blinked a few times, unsure of the question.  
  
"Why? Whaddya mean, why?"  
  
"Why do you like her?"  
  
"I just do! It's that simple!"  
  
"Ah ah ahh...nope, sorry. Not good enough. Tell me. Like, what's she got for ya? What do you see in her?"  
  
"Come on, Leon, this is stupid..."  
  
"I'm serious. What do you see when you look at her?" He put him on the spot. Crono sighed.  
  
"I dunno. I see a girl..."  
  
"Good, good, that's always a good start..."  
  
"...with, y'know, kinda pouty lips, and big brown eyes...a real sweet face. Her hair kinda falls into her eyes...it's...cute. She's really funny, nice laugh..."  
  
"That's one mean body shes sportin' around, dude. She got kinda tall, too. Seriously, you shoulda seen her a few years ago. She was like, small! I remember watchin' the ceremonies on TV and I saw her and I was just like 'damn...what's she doing up there? Shouldn't she be in school or something?' But now it's like...wow, man. That's all I can say. Wow." at this point, Crono couldn't hide the huge grin he was fighting futiley.  
  
"Yeah, but you know who else is hot?"  
  
"I can think of a few people offhand..."  
  
"That girl from the pizza parlor. Whooo! Man she's fine. Serves a mean pie, too." An almost empty soda bottle found it's way to the side of Crono's head, smacking against it and spilling liquid everywhere.  
  
"You suck, you know that! That was low, man!" Leon shouted, snatching up more garbage and sending it Crono's way. The Kensai fell back, out of his chair, unable to contain his hysterical laughter as he did his best to avoid the scraps of plastic and empty cans flying through the air. "Oh, so it's funny, now, huh?" The blonde taunted, pitching anything he could find from pens to crumpled papers to pillows down at his jocular friend.  
  
"Your god damn right it's funny. Mmmm mmm, ooh Melanie, wow, the lucky guy who gets you is on the very tip-top of my jealousy list...oh, if only I were with you now..." He pretended to sigh, rolling to his feet and dodging a wild swing. The next one, however, was aimed a bit more carefully.  
  
"Ow! Hey, watch the violence there, pal." Crono grunted, guarding his stomach from future blows. Leon was laughing now, throwing a chain of loose-fisted punches, some of which hit, others which brushed away in glancing shots. Covering his face, the redhead walked straight backward into the bed, flipped over, and rolled to the floor on the other side.  
  
"Oh man! That was classic, dude! You got smoked, bro!" Leon gloated.  
  
"Yeah? Yeah? You want some? You ain't seen nothin'." Crono's leg's coiled and tucked into his chest, his torso rolling back onto his shoulders, when all of a sudden his feet rocketed out into the air, carrying him up and onto the mattress. He could see Leon's eyes bulge a little bit, but he stayed cool.  
  
"Oooooh...nice hop there. Want some bunny ears to go along with it?"  
  
"Oh, you are so dead." Crono jumped forward, the room erupting into a two- man brawl. Although the punches were pulled, Crono could still feel the muscle behind his friend's strikes. Where he had come from, he was the strongest man around, the world's champion, but the pure force Leon could produce was impressive even to him. The metallic hands seemed to have something to do with it. Leon, on the other hand, was having a hard time keeping up with Crono's speed and masterful dexterity. Crono didn't just fight with his hands, he used his entire body, the unsureness of where the next blow would come from complicating matters greatly. The two were a comparable match in terms of hand to hand combat.  
  
As the blows grew more and more frequent, and the pullback became more and more nonexistant, the sounds of heavy combat inbetween sarcastic taunts and cursing was audible throughout the whole ship. It wasn't long after that the door flew open, the fight coming to a halt. The crowd in the doorway stared wide-eyed in disbelief.  
  
"What the hell is going on in here?" Cloud shouted in the form of a question. The two combatants looked at each other, quite badly beaten, and, to everyones surprise, began to laugh. Strife wasn't amused. "I said, what the hell is going on in here? I don't talk for no reason!"  
  
"Oh, us? Uh...we were just...eh..." Leon began.  
  
"Training. It's...necessary to keep up with your training if you want to be expert martial artists like us." Crono explained.  
  
"Exactly." Leon nodded.  
  
"Training, my ass! There's broken glass all over the floor, soda spilled everywhere, pillows, garbage! You guys look you got hit by cars! What the fuck kind of training is that!?"  
  
"Supplementary training."  
  
"Definintely." They began to laugh again.  
  
"Will you idiots shut up! I'm paying for this goddamn room, you know! The least you could do is take your nonsense outside!" He stormed off, walking past his wife and Cid, whom looked back after he'd passed.  
  
"Weirdass kids..." He shook his head, and left as well, leaving only Tifa, shaking her head with a tiny smile.  
  
"You guys...smacking each other up like that, you don't know the first thing about the art. If you ever want some real training, come see me and the Yuffster, we'll show ya how it's done." She spun on her heel, and walked away. Inside, Leon and Crono exchanged dubious glances.  
  
"Sound's like a hell of a lot of fun, man." Leon said with a grin, wiping the blood away from his nose. Crono nodded.  
  
"I'm scared of Tifa though. She looks ferocious. Anyway, you did awesome, man. Great fight, although I wish I knew it was gonna go that far. I haven't been hit that hard in years."  
  
"Anytime, dude. What say we go see whats going on outside? Everyone's probably wondering what the hell happened."  
  
"I'd suggest we wait till we both stop bleeding, then we can make our grand entrance." Crono advised.  
  
"Hey, word to that. You want a soda?" He asked.  
  
"...Against my head or in my hand?"  
  
"Whichever."  
  
"...Nah...I don't need anything right now."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A grand entrance it was indeed, with all focus brought upon the two of them as they barged into a room full of seated people. Heads and eyes turned toward them, some were shocked at the combat residue on their faces, others were just plain annoyed as they stood there, hands behind their backs, toting clueless grins on their faces.  
  
"Hey man." Leon said to Cloud, who was tapping his fingers, waiting. "We're here." Strife clapped his hands, sarcastically.  
  
"Very good. You found us. Sit down." He curtly pointed to two empty chairs on the other side of the large dining room table. Slightly humbled, they quietly walked over to their "assigned seats" and sat down.  
  
"Hey there, handsome." The violet-haired woman greeted Crono as he took a seat next to her. He smiled and gave her a quick hug, not wanting to aggrivate Cloud anymore than he already had.  
  
"Blue dude! What's up, hammer?" Leon slapped Magus on the back, who glanced at him briefly and grunted something unintelligible in response. He wasn't much for Leon's banter.  
  
"Okay! Are we done, gentlemen? Good. Listen up, to most of you, this is gonna seem like a vacation, but I assure you, it isn't. Now that we know that Sephiroth...or at least a representation of Sephiroth is in existance, everyone is to be on red alert, twenty-four, seven, understood? We're not playing games here kids. This is real. You screw up, you die. End of story." He paused, looking directly at Crono. "We're only stopping here for a few days to get our heads clear and to get out of the fray back in Midgar. I don't know about anyone else, but all of my time is going to be spent formulating a plan. No one knows how dangerous Sephiroth is like I do, and I know firsthand that if you don't keep your head straight and focus, you'll find yourself a nice new home in an oblong box. For everyone's safety, I'd advise that no one stray too far from the group. Stragglers are easy targets. Are there any questions?"  
  
"Yeah, man. Like, who died and got you elected supreme leader of all that is right? I mean like, aren't we all at risk? Shouldn't we like, all be making the plan?" Leon said with a laugh. The room was silent.  
  
"...I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Now, to anyone who has a functioning brain that hasn't been deadened by perpetual stupidity, I ask if there are any questions..." Cloud pressed, looking back and forth around the table. When no responses came, he gathered his things and walked to the door. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me." He added as he left the room.  
  
"Psh...what's up with him? He wanted to know if I had any questions. I wanted to know why he's the automatic leader all the time. I don't see what's wrong with that." Leon slouched back, putting his feet up on the table.  
  
"Look here, Mr. Slacker. He's the best damn guy we have, alright? And if you don't like it, well then fine. Go get yourself killed. That's one less idiot we gotta deal with in this god forsaken mess. He knows what he's doin', we trust him and he pulls through, that's the way it works. Unlike some people..." Cid griped. Leon sneered at him and stood up, shoving his chair in.  
  
"Alright, fine. You guys don't like me? Whatever. But if you're just gonna pass me off like I'm some kinda stoned-out loser punkass, then think again, alright? Cuz' I might not be a big hero like all you people, but I'm a person man, I gotta right to say what's on my mind. I gotta right to know what's goin' on. And I ain't no slacker, so just shove it, old man! You don't know nothin' about me!" he shouted, his fists shaking. Enraged, Cid pounded down on the table, and stood up as well, glaring at the younger man.  
  
"You wanna say that again, boy?"  
  
"Yeah, I think I do. Sh-"  
  
"Will you just fucking stop it already!!!!" Crono roared, jumping up out of his seat, flinging his chair back to splinter into pieces as it smashed against the wall. He now had everyone's full attention, even Leon's and Cid's, as he breathed heavily, almost a snarl. He was livid, and everyone knew it.  
  
"Dammit, people! I'm not Cloud! I don't know what the hell a ShinRa is or what this Sephiroth creep is all about! I'm not from around here, I don't know you all that well, and I'm sorry if you don't trust me like you trust each other. But I do know that if we keep letting stupid shit like this happen all the time, Sephiroth is gonna have one hell of an easy time rubbing us out." He stopped talking long enough to catch his breath, and try to calm himself down.  
  
"Don't you get it? We're gonna destroy each other from the inside out! We're trying to form an alliance to fight and we can't even get off the drawing table without getting in each other faces! We are fucking hopeless!! It's all gonna fall apart, and you're all gonna look for someone to blame...but the only person there is to blame is yourself. I'll be the first one to admit that I'm no innocent. I got into that scrap with Cloud because I couldn't just swallow my pride and let the guy do his thing. But we're supposed to learn from this shit, not just keep repeating it! Now I might not like you, and you might not like me, but for God's sake, there are bigger things at stake here than personal comfort! So just...everybody, cool your damn jets!" His voice rasped, the room tense with emotion. For a while, he stood there, awkwardly, not a word being uttered, until finally, Leon stepped forward.  
  
"Sorry, guys...I...I didn't mean to..." He stammered, choking back his emotions. Everyone could see the mist forming in his eyes, yet he acted like everything was no big deal. "See you all later..." He whispered, quickly turning and walking out the door, further prolonging the painful silence.  
  
"I think we should all get back to our rooms. Get some rest, you'll probably need it." To Crono's surprise, they actually listened, and began to pack up and file out the door. Perhaps his tirade had earned him a little respect.  
  
Perhaps it just made everyone uncomfortable...  
  
"Hey..." Yuffie said, snapping him out of it. "You okay?" He touched his forehead and nodded.  
  
"Yeah...I'm fine." His breathing was still shaky. She frowned.  
  
"If you need anything...anything at all...I'm in cabin four. I'm a light sleeper, so don't worry about it." And then she went on her way, leaving him an empty room, which he summarily exited, and returned to his quarters once again, Leon asleep on opposite bed.  
  
He slid beneath the covers, still wearing his normal clothes, and tried to shut the world out. He needed some sleep.  
  
Yet...  
  
Anything at all...  
  
THE END  
  
part twelve 


	13. Failure

ADVERSARY  
  
Costa Del Sol, 0004 N.C.E.  
  
He sighed as he stood in the doorway, watching her unpack her things onto the bed. He'd been standing there for about five minutes already, and she still was completely unaware of his presence. Part of him wished she'd just turn around already, and another part of him wished he hadn't come here in the first place. It wasn't that he particularly feared her reaction, it was just that he'd felt so horribly awkward around her sometimes, especially when the possibility of something physical arose. Yet it was not that he didn't want that, he simply doubted himself. A poor bushi's upbringing made not for a high self-esteem, even though he'd more than proven his worth to those around him multiple times, he still felt a deep-rooted lack of confidence within.  
  
He cleared his throat.  
  
"Yuffie?"  
  
She dropped her belongings and spun around, startled. She blinked a few times, the identity of the person in the room with her sinking into her brain.  
  
"Oh...hey, Crono. I didn't know you were...come, in if you'd like." She offered, weakly. The disappointment on her face was as obvious as a neon sign. Crono frowned as she turned back to her luggage, and away from him. He walked into the room as if the floor were a sheet of thin ice, carefully and slowly.  
  
"Man...I was really tired yesterday. I guess the whole week finally caught up with me, eh?" he shot the poor attempt at conversation into the wind.  
  
"I guess you slept well then..." She muttered, in what would have been a sarcastic tone if she'd put more energy into it. He swallowed hard, fidgeting with some coins in his pocket.  
  
"Yeah, I...listen, I know I didn't come over last night, but I just was so stressed out...I couldn't see anybody but the bed." She turned back around, concerned.  
  
"I know! That's why I extended an invitation to you...it looked like you needed a hand, someone to talk to. You can't handle everything alone, you know. Sometimes you need some help...that's all..."  
  
"Well...thank you. I'm sorry I didn't show up..."  
  
"Don't be. You're here now, aren't you?" She asked. He looked around, confused.  
  
"Uh, yeah...so?" She pulled him by the short sleeve of his black shirt down into one of the chairs by the window, sitting down opposite him at the small coffee table.  
  
"So tell me everything. About you, you're life, anything. I know you're a big important guy, so don't gimme none of that 'oh, it's really nothing' stuff. C'mon, I wanna know more about you." She asked him. He rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
"Well...geez, I dunno where to begin..."  
  
"Anywhere! How'd you get so popular over in Guardia?"  
  
"I defeated a monster that threatened the existance of our world." She laughed.  
  
"Oh, thats all? Psh...been there, done that. Come on, man, tell me something interesting. What do you do?"  
  
"I'm a Kensai. A-"  
  
"Kensai?! No way! Really? You? The legendary Sword Saint? I...woah...that's awesome!" Crono blushed.  
  
"I don't see what the big deal is...it's just a title...and a code of practice."  
  
"But you're supposed to be like the ultimate master of your chosen art! It's way more than just a title and a code. They tell stories of Kensai back in my hometown. We mostly train ninja there though. Good for fighting in the forest area. But Kensai, damn, Crono! That's great!" He smiled a little.  
  
"Actually, I always wanted to be a ninja...I just never had anyone to train me back home. As it was, I was the only person in the whole land that practiced Kensai arts, no one else had heard of them. I kinda stuck out like a freak."  
  
"How in the hell did you learn anything then?"  
  
"My father, he was a great fighter. He left many scrolls and writings and instructions on Bushido, the way of the-"  
  
"Way of the warrior, I know. You don't have to explain your eastern terms to me there, Crono-San. Anyway, go on. This is really cool."  
  
"Well, I never really knew him well. He died at war when I was very young, and my mother took me to live in Guardia, a peaceful country. I learned almost everything I know about him through his writings. I wish I could have known him better. He must have been an amazing man..." He turned his gaze out the window. She took his stray hand that rested on the tabletop.  
  
"He sure must've been. Look at you..." He slowly looked back over at her, he returned the grasp of her hand, swallowing hard.  
  
"I want you to know something." She nodded, her eyes wide.  
  
"Sure. What's that?"  
  
"I don't talk to people about my history much at all...I don't like talking about it. Usually people think I'm weird or something...but...you actually listened to me...and you didn't judge me or anything...you really wanted to know about me...not just determine my social status or something. I like that about you." She smiled, almost giggling.  
  
"Aww...you're sweet, ya know that?" He smiled. She laughed, but then looked back at him, serious again. "Ever been in love before?" He tapped his fingers, nervously. What kind of a question was that?  
  
"I don't know..."  
  
"Oh come on! Seriously, don't be embarassed or nothin'. It happens to the best of us. C'mon! Tell me, who was your first girl? I bet it was that Lucca girl you're friends with, right? She looks like your type." She teased.  
  
"No." He said flatly. "No, she and I have always been friends. Nothing really more than that."  
  
"Ohh...so...who was it then? Don't tell me you've been walking around single all your life." He didn't like where this was going.  
  
"I...had a relationship with this girl I met at a fair about four years ago. She helped us in our quest, and I thank her for that, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be. It's way over now, and I'm glad, I just wish her and her royal goons weren't bent on hating me like they do..."  
  
"Royal? Are you serious? What was she, a queen or something?"  
  
"No...might as well have been. She's the princess of Guardia."  
  
"Oh. I see..."  
  
"I gotta say, I'm really angry with them for what they did to me and Lucca. It's really low and wrong and I absolutely hate it when the upper class takes out their anger on the commoners. I just get so mad, I can't control my anger. When they tried to hurt Lucca, we ripped up their castle and guards horribly. Now that I look back on it, I wish I hadn't acted quite as aggressively, but some things have to be done."  
  
"Wow. I guess you're not kidding when you say it's way over. I can't really picure you with the whole prissy-princess kinda girl."  
  
"Yeah, you picture me more with the witty ninja chick, right?" Crono grinned. She laughed in disbelief, and kicked him under the table.  
  
"Hey, now! That's a cheap shot if I ever heard one!"  
  
"Ah, I'm just kidding. But seriously..." He paused, a strange clicking sound eminating from the curtains at the window. Yuffie froze.  
  
"I don't like the sound of that..."  
  
"Oh, but I do. Glad to meet you once again, Miss Kisaragi." She almost jumped up in the air as two men stepped out from behind the thick red curtains. Each posessed a large black firearm which was tucked under the black sleeve of the full-bodied suit each assailant wore. One nozzle was pointed at either of the victim's foreheads. Ninja-like facemasks covered the heads of both intruders.  
  
"Crono...don't move, those things will kill you..." Yuffie whispered.  
  
"I know what they are...who the hell are you two!?" Crono demanded, rising up in anger. They stepped back, giving their guns a slight thrust forward, reminding him that, yes, these were quite dangerous weapons. He paused. He was definitely off guard.  
  
"Don't move, Crono. You know what happens when some moron tries to stand up to one of these. He soon finds himself sitting down rather quickly." The taller, thinner one taunted. Crono knew that voice...  
  
"You!" Yuffie hissed, glaring at him. "You're those jerkoffs with the motorcycles! Get the fuck out of here before we stomp the shit out of-"  
  
"Ah-ah-ahh...I believe it is us who are in control here. So you can just tell your boyfriend here to sit down and follow orders, 'kay?" Crono began to sweat. This was where he was supposed to valiantly fight them off and protect her, but he wouldn't be able to get very far, considering...  
  
"What do you want?" He asked, not moving from his position.  
  
"I want you to sit down, first." Crono didn't budge. "Look, you're only making it more difficult for yourself, alright, tough guy? Sit down, and put your hands behind your head." Crono still did nothing but shake with anger. "Do it!! Sit your ass down!" He shouted, putting the nozzle of the weapon inches away from Crono's head.  
  
"Crono...listen to him..." Yuffie begged, quietly. Crono hesitated. How he wished he had more time to consider the situation.  
  
This doesn't make sense...if they were assassins they would have killed us already...  
  
"Get down!!" The man yelled, forcefully jabbing the gun into Crono's head. He flinched, trying to resist the push and stay on his feet.  
  
They want something out of us...they don't want us dead yet...  
  
Taking the man by surprise, he seized the barrel of the gun and wrenched it out of his hands. A hard side kick to the head knocked him back onto the bed as he followed, miliseconds later, springing up onto the mattress, and pulling the trigger on the attacker's heart.  
  
Click.  
  
Empty?  
  
"It's a bluff! They aren't loaded!" Crono hollered. Just then the pinned infiltrator jabbed his fingers up into his eyes. "Ahhh!! Dammit!" He covered his face and rolled back, tossing the useless gun aside. He felt the man kick him visciously off the mattress, as he tumbled down, furiously wiping the water from his eyes, trying to clear them. He had to get up and back into the fight, for her sake.  
  
In all his efforts to take down the first attacker, he'd completely forgotten about the second, who was consequently hitting the floor beside him in the same instant. Eyes now somewhat capable of seeing, Crono looked back up, and saw the hazy shapes of Yuffie and the first assailant fighting close-quarters. He was trying to twist her arm up behind her back.  
  
Elbowing the second man who was now trying to grapple him in the face, Crono easily shook him off, and jumped back up to his feet, sliding his katana out of its sheath. Noticing his advance, the masked man jerked Yuffie up in front of him, a human shield. Crono saw her face. She was furious, wishing she could just turn around and kill him. He stared her opponent dead in the eyes.  
  
"Let her go, or I swear I'll kill you both." The man laughed, mockingly.  
  
"Come on, tough guy, take her. She's right in front of you, for God's sake." Crono's jaw was clenched so tight it shook, and he began to carefully advance on him, watching as he began to open a compartment on his belt. Whatever it was, it was not going to be good.  
  
"Pick up your legs!" Crono ordered her. Eager to break free, she jerked her knees up to her chest, her captor almost stumbling to maintain hold of her. With the new area of clearance, Crono sliced down at his legs.  
  
"Gyaah!!!" He screamed in pain, the cloth around his shins torn and bloodying fast. Yuffie whipped her head back into his face, releasing his grip, and knocking him away. She planted her feet down firmly, and spun around, ready to fight again. She was about to stomp down hard on his knees, but something stopped her. She felt a dull thud in her chest, and then a sickening numbness spreading down her torso seconds later. Looking down through blurry eyes, she saw a thin needle sticking out of her shirt. A stubby handgun-type weapon was in the hand of the floored attacker, and he was preparing to load another dart in.  
  
Beginning to lose consciousness, she stepped back, Crono catching her as she fell. She looked up at him, glazed eyes full of worry.  
  
"Please...don't let them take me..." Her eyes shut and her head rolled to the side.  
  
"Never." He whispered, bolting over toward the bed and laying her down, instantly whirling around. The small gun was pointed at him.  
  
"Liar." The wounded attacker hissed, pulling himself up with one arm, and firing his weapon with the other. It made a sort of "thunk" noise, the air pressure firing the dart out at a high enough speed to pierce the skin of the toughest beast.  
  
No way...  
  
Somewhat out of reflex and somewhat out of adrenaline, Crono jolted back and his arm ripped through the air with such momentum it carried him around three hundred and sixty degrees, where he emerged, holding his hand out to spite the intruder.  
  
In the center of his palm, a small needle rested harmlessly.  
  
The mans eyes bulged, as Crono stepped forward, feeling quite invincible after his display. He slapped the flat side of the katana across the masked face, and then reached out and tore the cloth covering off of the man's head.  
  
"I know you...your name's Alex. You're those guys who tried to jump me in the street..."  
  
"Charmed." Alex sneered, out of options.  
  
"What, no big guy this time? I kinda liked him. He gave me a nice tattoo...Sephiroth, right?" Crono egged him, inches away from his face.  
  
"He doesn't have time to waste on you and that whore. Hey, by the way, is she good? I figured she was after I tangled with her, but I wasn't really sure." He fired back. Crono drove an uppercut into Alex's stomach, hearing the satisfying expulsion of air from the lungs and gagging.  
  
"Good one, smartass. Keep it up and i'll use this." He shook the blade in his face. "What the hell are you doing here anyway?" Alex smiled wider.  
  
"Oh, of all the things, O' great Kensai, you should know. Kensai? Damn, Crono, that's great!" He mocked Yuffie. Crono grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him back against the wall, putting the blade to his throat.  
  
"Listen here. Start talking or start dying." Alex rolled his eyes.  
  
"Wow, you are bad at this. Hell, why doncha' just go ask Yuffie, she's right there! Oh wait, no she's not! Hahah!" He crowed, pointing his finger.  
  
"What?!" Crono turned around, his eyes widening. The mattress was bare.  
  
The other one! Him!  
  
The silver-haired man's fist landed full-speed on Crono's jaw, snapping his head sideways. He fell straight down, completely off balance. Moments later he heard the sound of shattering glass, undoubtedly Alex escaping through the window.  
  
There was no time to clear his head, regain his bearings, or even pause to think. Staggering forward, Crono rushed to the window, to find Alex halfway down a cable that was attached to the wall by a spike. A black van with tinted windows was running and waiting for him at the bottom, three stories down. It was insane, just the thought of it. It was preposterous.  
  
It was now or never.  
  
Crono avoided the remaining jagged protrusions of glass, and pushed off the ledge with both feet, somersaulting out of the window. The wind slashed at him, tearing through his hair and rippling his loose clothing. One, two, three sets of lighted windows zipped by his falling body in a blur as he prepared for impact, kicking his feet out. His right leg landed first on the roof of the van, with a horrirying crunch, as he heard the bones in his lower leg shattering. It didn't matter. He couldn't feel anything anymore. Reversing his katana, he plunged it through the roofing of the car, ripping it to the side as a crinkled line appeared in the metal. As he made the next cut, he saw Alex let go of the cable, now on the ground, and begin limping rapidly toward the vehicle. He could worry about him now. With a kiai shout, he tore the next area of metal away, a triangular gap now where a solid surface once was.  
  
"Yuffie! It's me!" He shouted down to her still body. She was slumped in a corner about five feet below him. He heard the passenger's side door slam. They were going to take off and fling him from the vehicle, a point at which he would not be able to persue them from. Diverting from his immediate goal, he twisted to the side, ramming the blade down through the windsheild, as he heard the brothers shout in surprise. The van began to lurch forward, the younger brother kicking it into gear. This time Crono aimed the blade at the driver, drew back, and stopped...something hit him in the side...  
  
No!! Not now!!  
  
A dart was lodged in his flank, a tingling feelinglessness sweeping across his body. The driver floored the gas, and the van streaked forward, Crono's body flying off the back, as he skidded across the rough pavement. Screaming, he tried to force himself to stand, but his leg was useless. He fell straight back down as the van tore out of the parking lot of the hotel, and out of sight. He pounded his bare knuckles against the ground.  
  
No...goddammit, no...I can't believe it...  
  
He let her slip through his fingers, just like sand. He'd failed her. The will to fight brutally kicked from his body, he submitted to the strange drugging effect of the syringe buried in his flesh. He didn't care.  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
part thirteen 


	14. Sweet Dreams

ADVERSARY  
  
Costa Del Sol, 0004 N.C.E.  
  
She sighed in depression. There wasn't anything she could do to help her friend, at least nothing he would let her. He wanted to be alone, with no sympathy or pity dealt to him as consollation for his self-percieved failure. Discarding any joy in the fact that he'd healed remarkabley fast and that he would be back fully back on his feet in a matter of days, he lay solitary, day after day, eating next to nothing and talking to no one other than to give simple responses and commands.  
  
"Yo." She looked up from her book on modern electronics and saw the broad- shouldered blonde friend of Crono's standing above the table, somewhat awkwardly. She pushed her glasses back up onto her nose.  
  
"Yes?" He shrugged and pulled out a chair from under the table and slumped down in it with a heavy sigh.  
  
"I dunno. I'm just bored as hell. Figured you might have something to talk about." He said, playing with the strap on his goggles. She sat up, somewhat surprised, and looked down at her book.  
  
Don't really think this is gonna interest him...  
  
"Um...well...have you talked to Crono at all?" He shook his head.  
  
"Nope. Dude ain't said a single word but 'leave me alone'. Well, okay, thats three words, but you...like...know what I mean, right?" He corrected himself. She tapped her fingers. She didn't want him to think she had to be technical around him just because she was "smart."  
  
"Well, what do you usually do for fun?" She posed the question. He took her bottle of eyeglass cleaner and wiped off his blue lense with a tissue.  
  
"Well, I...uh...oh...sorry, mind if I...?"  
  
"Not at all."  
  
"I skate, work out, box, chill, read, watch tv...you know, the regular deal for a regular dude. Nothin' spectacular." He replied. She snatched his response.  
  
"Read? Really? What kind of books?"  
  
"Well, you know...like...comics and stuff." He murmered sheepishly. She laughed.  
  
"Oh, well that's cool. Everyone's got their own tastes and all."  
  
"Yep. How 'bout you? You're pretty geniusy so I hear." Lucca waved her hand.  
  
"Don't believe everything you hear. I just like to read, I don't have any more talent than anyone, I just spend my time a little differently, that's all." He looked at her, dubiously.  
  
"Ohhhh, I see. Modesty, I gotcha. That's cool. You know, I'm not really stronger than most people, I just lift heavy stuff a lot." She smiled.  
  
"Yeah, and you just choose to wear really small shirts to create the illusion of being muscular, right?"  
  
"Sure. That too."  
  
"You guys want some food?" Cloud called from the doorway, a wireless phone in his hand. Leon perked up.  
  
"Hey, man, I thought you'd like, never ask. If it's pizza, I'll worship you, man." Cloud chuckled.  
  
"Okay, well start building that shrine there, kid. Pizza it is." He came into the room, and sat down with them. He'd been making a consious effort to be more amiable towards them in these difficult times. He didn't want to make a bad impression on them, or set a bad example for his son.  
  
"You rule, dude. Hey, how's the wife an' kids? They holding out okay?" Strife nodded, solemnly.  
  
"Yeah. They're doing good. As long as we can keep Truss busy we're okay, he's happy, we're happy, y'know?" Leon nodded.  
  
"Well, it's good that we're all gettin' used to each other. Kinda like a big...really...really weird family. Especially with the BlueMiester. He's a character, man."  
  
"He's really not that bad." She said to them, closing her book. "If you got to know him, you'd see what I mean."  
  
"Hey, I tried, but he think's I'm an idiot or something. I think the guy needs to chill himself out, we're all in this together, after all."  
  
"He likes to work alone. He doesn't feel comfortable hanging around with a bunch of other people all the time." She explained, defensively.  
  
"Yeah, but he still shouldn't treat me like a moron. I mean, what the hell is he so special for anyway? Oooh, look at me, I can burn shit with my bare hands...I'm like sooo much better than you." He mocked, waving his hands. She wasn't laughing.  
  
"Well, you do teach people how to treat you, Leon. Remember that." She said, and she took her literature and left the room, slamming the door. Both men winced.  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"Major ouch."  
  
"So, do they deliver?"  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
His barely twenty-one-year-old body felt as if it had atrophied horribly in the last few days. He felt so weak and inconfident it almost scared him. Clutching his sheathed katana in one hand, he lay back on the mattress, the closed curtains not letting any light into the room, not that there actually was any light outside to let in. His heartbeat echoed throughout the room, the only audible sound for the hours and hours on end he spent in self-inlficted solitary confinement. He wasn't sure when he would be back on his feet, either. Their eager estimates were probably just feigned to cheer him up, anyway.  
  
He flopped over on his side, feeling the cool air from the floor vent drifting up towards his face. It was then that he noticed the clear glass of water on the nightstand beside his bed.  
  
Lucca must've left it there when she came in this morning...didn't notice...  
  
Lazily, he reached over and took a drink, moistening his dry throat. Not long after, he proceeded to down the whole glass, and put it back, turning over again, somewhat refreshed. Breathing a little slower and deeper now, much more relaxed, his mind began to stray from his troubles, and think of things in a more euphoric fashion. Being depressed wasn't going to help anything, right? At least now he could get some sleep without feeling sick with guilt.  
  
Thirty minutes later...  
  
Crono's eyes snapped open at the sudden sensation on his shoulder. A light, almost feathery touch against his clothed skin, yet it was enough to wake him up, given his atuned senses and reflexes. Eyes darting across the room, he saw the drawn drapes blowing in the breeze let in by an open window. The moonlight dimly illuminating the room. Carefully, making sure not to entangle himself in the sheets, he rolled over quickly, and braced himself with his elbow to keep from rolling off the bed. In the poor visibility, he could only make out an outline from his vantage point. The outline of a woman.  
  
An absolutely stunning woman.  
  
She moved closer, her form coming into the moonlight slowly. Her black outfit was taught to her body, revealing all of her amazing figure, and she dipped her head down slightly, bringing her face into view. Her complexion was very fair and clear, and her eyes were long and thin, her long black hair falling just below her shoulders. She gave him a coy smile, and brought a finger to her lips, moving forward.  
  
Crono's eyes were wide, he was completely baffled. Who and what in the world was going on here?  
  
"Hi." She said in a whisper, kneeling on the mattress next to him. His mouth opened, but no words came. His voice wouldn't cooperate. "I know this is an odd time, but it's the only time I could find."  
  
What?  
  
"I think I figured out what's been going on...there's so much to tell you...I don't even know where to begin."  
  
Who are you?  
  
"Did you worry about me? I'm sorry, baby." She slid up next to him.  
  
Who the hell are you?  
  
"Don't worry, I take care of myself pretty well."  
  
"What are you talking about?! Who are you?" He almost shouted. She tensed up, worridly.  
  
"Shh! Come on! Keep your voice down, everyone's asleep." She moved to touch his arm, but he pulled away quickly.  
  
"No. If you can't tell me who the hell you are then just get out of here, alright?" Her lips played into that same knowing smile.  
  
"Why do you really care who I am as long as I stay...right here..." She almost hissed. Crono froze.  
  
Yuffie?  
  
She nodded slightly, almost as if she had read his mind.  
  
No way. She's not like her...  
  
Her hand traced up his neck.  
  
No way...  
  
She reached around behind his shoulders and slipped the glove off her other hand.  
  
"You're so different..." He mused in a toneless voice, in pure shock. She looked at him, quizzically, her lower lip pushing forward slightly, almost pouting.  
  
"You don't like it...?" His heart raced.  
  
"I...yes...well, no...I...Yuffie, what happened? What did they do to you?"  
  
"What's it matter...just relax." She undid his headband, folding it over her finger and tossing it aside. Slowly, he began to bring his shaking hands up to her waist, holding her, almost as if to prevent himself from falling off some invisible ledge. That calm expression never left her face as she continued, sliding her fingers under his shirt and pulling it up over his head, as he drew his arms out of it. She sat back on her heels, and brought his hand to the end of her top outfit. He was shivering despite the warm climate.  
  
"Wait...Yuffie...don't-"  
  
"Shh...don't be scared..." She was too late. He was practically paralyzed, given the situation. "We got pretty close before, remember? Now we don't have an audience..."  
  
This isn't right...what the hell is she trying to do to me?  
  
Using his hand as a puppet, she removed her top, slowly revealing to him that she in fact was as beautiful as she appeared to be, underneath. He stared in awe at her, noticing the red tattoos that ran up her arms and across her chest. He couldn't make out what they were in the relative darkness. Before he could say a single word she pulled herself against him, and pushed him back, their flesh pressed together, and began to kiss him. She could feel his wavering breaths and rapidly beating heart in his chest.  
  
"Please. Just relax." She almost begged, running her teeth and tounge down his neck. He winced as he felt her nails scraping along his ripped torso, almost as if the skin was lightly pricked at one point. She whispered in apology, returning back up to his face, and looking down into his eyes.  
  
He knew it was no use to ask her again why she looked so odd, for she would give him some irrelevant answer and start distracting him again, yet, staring directly at her in between her advances, he studied her carefully. Her hair was longer and shinier than he remembered, her eyes weren't wide and bright like they usually were. Her face was longer and her features were softer and fairer, and she definitely moved much more smoothly and knowingly than before. Any traces of a still-young girl were gone. Yet there was still something about her, something that kept him from resisting entire, something that tied this woman and the girl he remembered together by a faint thread.  
  
But who really cared?  
  
Her efforts to calm him down finally taking effect, he began returning her kisses and caresses, groaning in muffled approval as she intertwined her legs with his, soft cloth swishing against denim. She knew he wasn't going to resist her anymore, and began to grind against him, his inexperienced mind reeling in pure rapture. He'd never been this close to anyone before, nowhere near it. Questions were the farthest thing from his thoughts now, his brain feeling slightly dizzy.  
  
But then she stopped. She let go of his body and broke contact with his arms, her smile gone without a trace. He sat up, looking somewhat worried. What had he done? What was she doing? Without saying a word, she slipped back into her outfit, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, picking up her gloves. He felt sick and disoriented. What was happening to him?  
  
"Where are you going?" No answer. It was almost like she couldn't hear him. She turned her face away from his, still slient. "Yuffie...what are you doing? If you want to stop that's fine. Just tell me." He moved to touch her arm, but she squirmed away. He stood up, groggily, and moved directly in front of her, so that she couldn't avoid him.  
  
"Please say something...Yuffie...I..." He staggered back, the lightheadedness overtaking him. Crono fumbled for something to grab to brace himself upon, but nothing was available. Helplessly, he slumped down to the floor, barely leaning himself up by his arm. "Somethings wrong...I can't...Yuffie...help me...please..." He choked once, then lowered his head sluggishly until it lay on the ground with the rest of him, and then he lay there, motionless.  
  
She sat there in silence for a few moments looking off into space. Then, almost robotically, she knelt down, touching her bare hand to his neck. Nothing. She placed her ear against his chest. Nothing.  
  
He was dead.  
  
She stood up and pulled the curtains together. Her hand then found the nearest lightswitch and flicked it on, the room instantly ablaze with brightness. Working as quickly as she could, she searched him. In his pockets he had some money, and nothing much else of value. This wasn't getting her anywhere. Her steps silent and careful, she moved across the room in search of the needed item. Stopping only once to grab his headband from the bed, she looked through the drawers of his nightstand, the desktop, the inside of the desk, finding nothing more than some brochures and religious texts that certainly didn't belong to him.  
  
Her work was extremely precise. She took note of the way everything was before she touched it or examined it in detail, and took extensive measures to ensure that it was returned exactly to the way it was originally. Yet despite all her efforts, she wasn't finding anything. Instead of spending any more time searching through worthless paraphanalia, she grabbed the empty glass on the table, and crept over to the kitchenette in the corner, rinsing it out with clean water, drying it throughly, and placing it back in the cabinet.  
  
Going back over to the bed, she removed the blankets and sheets from the mattress, and threw them to the floor, waiting to see the needle that she had stuck him with using her mouth drop to the carpet. Sure enough, the miniscule syringe tumbled out of the linen, and she snatched it up, making sure to grab the rounded end, and put it back into a pouch on her belt. The ninja then rolled the bedcovers together tightly and stuffed them into the laundry chute, where they would be gathered and washed first thing in the morning by the cleaning staff, destroying any small trace of blood or poison that might have been there.  
  
All current angles covered, it was time to resume her search, her eyes darting around the room, wondering curiously where it could be. There wasn't many other places it could be besides the closet...but it certainly didn't seem likely to be in there...  
  
Nevertheless, she opened the closet door, pushing the rug down with her foot in front of it as it opened. Inside were several empty hangers, and one change of clothes, almost identical to the ones he wore. Apparently he hadn't done much shopping since he'd been in Midgar, as both outfits were originally Leon's. She almost was about to close the door again, when she noticed something behind his clothing. Hurridly, she pushed through them and sure enough, found what she was looking for.  
  
His sword.  
  
Not bothering to question why a dedicated swordsman would hang up his blade in such a remote place, she strapped it onto her waist, and shut the closet door, putting the clothed hangers back in their original position. Her job was almost over.  
  
Shutting the lights off, she re-opened the drapes, and stepped up on the windowsill, contorting her body through it. Outside, the city was quiet, only the noises of nature penetrated the humid night air. The slots in her belt at the sides of her hips held two black metal clawlike aparati, each which she slipped her fingers through, and fastened around her hand. Cracking her knuckles, she used the claws to grip into the wall of the building as she began her ascent. Her skills and equipment made the seven story climb relatively simple, although she felt uneasy the whole time. Once she reached the ledge of the roof, she kicked off the side of the wall, and propelled herself up and over the edge, rolling to the surface of the rooftop. She paused to catch her breath briefly before completing her last objective.  
  
Using the large neon sign in the city square as a landmark, she triangulated down on the spot she was supposed to, and reached down into another compartment on her belt. From it she produced a simple cigarette lighter, which she flicked on, a steady flame burning in the night sky, and held it out in her hand, motionless. Seconds later a similar light appeared down on the street, signaling that her task was complete, and all she had to do now was wait. She sank back down, out of sight from any possible observer, and put her lighter away.  
  
Then she cried.  
  
THE END  
  
part fourteen 


	15. Swashing and Buckling

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector 5, 0004 N.C.E.  
  
The cold early November air blew back the tail of his long gray raincoat as he walked briskly down the platform to the Sector Six bound train. Stepping across the ravine into the doorway, he paused briefly to stomp his boots and brush the moisture from his hair. He flashed his ticket at the guard with a smile that barely held back a chuckle. The soldier looked at him strangely, but then shrugged and turned to the next person in line. He'd dealt with a lot of oddballs in his day. Inside, the young man took his seat next to the window, propping his leg up on the opposite knee.  
  
The train whistled and the conductor hollered as the car began to lurch forward along the track and then gradually accelerate. He watched halfheartedly as the train left the dank station, the gray morning sky filling his field of view. Sector Six wasn't very far, in fact it was well within walking distance, but he just really wasn't in the mood to mingle with the street folk. Besides, he had to maintain a professional appearance, one he couldn't risk compromising in the muddy streets of the city still under immense renovations. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like to be alive to see the city at its height as a metropolis, the glorious wealthy class well established above the poorer slums, his father the most feared and respected man on the planet. Surely he would have been viewed in a similar way.  
  
"Alexander the Great." He laughed softly to himself. What it would be like to live up to the standard of the name that was given to him. It was a name of power. It was a name of courage. It was a name of great conquerors in the past, in other worlds. Sometimes his father would tell him about them. It was some of the little time they ever spent together, doing anything other than training. It almost felt like he was always being prepared for some immense battle that would rock the world and leave everything in ashes. Sometimes his father frightened him.  
  
Sometimes he wished it were true.  
  
Maybe the day would come when the heavens and hells of ancient mythoi would send their strongest warriors into battle, the whole universe a melee of horrific creatures, and he, Alexander, would be at the core of it all, proving to the very Gods that he was greater than their champions, that he too could conquer like his father. Proving to his father that he too was competent, that he could relate to him on an equal level, that he wasn't a boy anymore.  
  
Maybe successfully fulfilling a directive he gave me would be a good place to start…  
  
At six foot two, the silver-haired young man was taller than most of the people he passed as he walked from the train down the streets of Sector Six. He sighed. It got him some small form of respect from the commoners he supposed. Although back at home, he felt like an insect compared to his giant of a father. Even that moron Crono was bigger than him, but it didn't bother him much anymore, the guy was stiff on a cold slab. Maybe it was that god-awful hair of his…  
  
Why the fuck am I thinking about this?  
  
City Hall was a grand building, gold and brightly lit, although somewhat garish in its décor. He remembered briefly hearing something about it being the former home of some wealthy prostitute monger who was shot up by some gang.  
  
How…uh…fitting…hell, did they clean it at least? Shit…hope there aren't any metal detectors or searches or anything…  
  
He worried as he plodded into the brightly lit, golden lobby. He always walked around armed, or at least lightly armed. Not that he feared he couldn't defend himself without a weapon, but drawing out a flashing sword to settle an argument held a certain charisma to it that he definitely enjoyed. Just last week he had insulted and mocked his way into a heated confrontation with a group of Guardian townsfolk, his talent for playing with people's tempers truly revealed…  
  
- - -  
  
"You there! Yah! You! Come over here!" He heard someone shout over his shoulder as he studied the label on the wine bottle. The midday sun hindered his vision, forcing him to bring a hand to his forehead, creating a makeshift visor as he turned and lackadaisically glanced over his shoulder. In the middle of the square stood a gathering of coarse looking men, some were quite inebriated, especially the one who had hollered across the street. Sighing disinterestedly, he turned back to the brewer and resumed looking over the beverages.  
  
"Hey you! Ya deef're somthin'? I said come o'er here!" The callous voice rumbled once again, and Alex banged the bottle down on the table in annoyance, nearly breaking the casing. He turned around with his usual disdainful smirk, and casually strolled across the cobblestone without uttering a word to them. They did their best to straighten themselves up, but their drunkenness was apparent, and this brought a laugh from the silver-haired young man.  
  
"May I help you? I believe the Chardonnay is half price today, but then again, you knew that, didn't you? Of course you did." The staggering ruffian raised an eyebrow, and looked to either side, meeting the eyes of his "comrades."  
  
"Yeah…you're one of them new people from the city over the hill, aren't you? One of them people that're supposed to kill the old boy with the red hair, right?" He accused, somewhat slovenly. Alex yawned.  
  
"Excuse me." He said. "But that's old news, my intoxicated friend. You see, Crono's already dead. We're just helping secure the land. Crono and his convict friends did waste a few of our guards, after all. Besides, your king's military system is hideous. I believe this sad place needs some organization. Badly." Another man spoke up, shorter and stouter.  
  
"Hey! Crono was a fine lad! He saved us, y'know! I think yer just trying to take over, aren't ya?" He bawled, a small crowd beginning to gather. Alex opened his eyes and mouth wide in mock horror.  
  
"Me? Take over you're land? Are you serious? Why…I couldn't do that to you! It's just so beautiful, and so full of…filthy drunkards. Lovely." The first man ground his teeth down, and balled his fists, stepping forward.  
  
"I think yer a liar. You couldn't kill Crono. You couldn't hurt an imp, ya pretty boy." He challenged. Alex looked down his nose at him.  
  
"People lose limbs talking like that. Heads, even." They laughed at him, starting to close in on all sides.  
  
"Right, right! I'm sure that's how Crono ended up. Dead at yer fierce hands, right?" He shoved Alexander back, dismissively, the men behind him pushing him in the opposite direction, almost causing him to lose his balance. He glared at the man who had initially pushed him.  
  
"I wonder how much money I could get for the skull of a drunken idiot…" he hissed, his hand moving to the hilt of his thin katana, a message to the men that clearly stated "back off." He didn't intimidate them, apparently.  
  
"Fancy clothes don't make a fighter, do they?" They produced a variety of crude weapons from their belts and tunics, ranging from short swords to brass knuckles and knives, brandishing them in a most imposing manner. Alex smiled. This was his big chance.  
  
"No, but they serve not to repel the opposite sex, hence I am courting the princess, and you…well…you're most likely married to some troll of a woman, so, I rest my case." Now he certainly wasn't courting the princess, but it sure seemed like a witty retort at the time. Besides, he could lie whenever he felt like it. He drew his blade in a sweeping motion, and whipped it around in front of him, a pleasant sword song filling the air as the katana danced. For a moment, the townsfolk stared in awe at his display, but then once again began to close in.  
  
Alexander jerked as he felt two sets of arms grab his from behind, the lead attacker swaggering forward, slapping a cudgel against his palm with a wicked grin. He struggled to free his sword arm, but to no avail. The men had him in a compromising position. The barbarian sheer feet from him now, he pushed off the ground, both legs snapping out in two lightning-fast kicks, the first knocking his head back, and the second landing directly in the center of his throat. He fell back, almost croaking, as his club rolled lazily from his hand. Seizing initiative over the rest of the men who were in no position to attack him directly, he twirled his sword around with his hand, and lightly jabbed backward with a flick of the wrist. The strike was met with a satisfying resistance, and a surprised scream from behind. He felt the rightmost holder's grip dramatically weaken.  
  
Swirling out of the hold, Alexander jumped back and turned, slashing in an arc, light wounds appearing on the torsos of the other four men. With a smile, he stood up tall, one foot resting upon the opposite shin like a stork. He held out his open hand, and beckoned them to come forward. Wiping a bit of nervous sweat of their brows, they stormed in, mustering their courage after his shocking display. He walked backward with long sweeping strides, his hand still outstretched and antagonizing. Their pace quickened as he appeared to retreat, until at last, they charged messily, swinging their weapons in fury. Alex sprang upward, arms spread like a grandiose eagle, and somersaulted over the group, twisting and slashing out behind him. Once again, thin lines of blood were drawn on their soiled clothing, some of them dropping downward in frustration and clumsiness. The two that remained on their feet turned around and hacked at him with their short blades. He danced backward, his blade flashing in and out of theirs, parrying each one of their strikes that came remotely close to him.  
  
As he neared the vendors across the street, still jovially holding off the two brutes, he heard the shopkeepers shout and demand that they stop immediately, for someone would surely be injured.  
  
You mean you're stuff might get broken. Of course you care now…  
  
He snickered, leaping back up onto the table of the wine merchant, sending some glasses off the table and crashing to the ground. The brewer moaned and fled, taking his treasury box with him. Alexander sheathed his blade, and lifted two flasks of ale up into the air, and poured two streams of liquor into his open mouth. He paused after a moment, and looked down at the approaching duo, swallowing with a pensive look on his face.  
  
"Hmm…a bit dry…what do you think?" He poised, arching his body inward to avoid their swings, and he slammed down on both heads with the bottles, the glass and alcohol exploding outward in all directions. They cried out in pain and tumbled to the ground, bloody faced, eyes burning with fermented ale. He crowed in triumphant laughter, the three others gathering themselves up and looking on in disgust as their comrades writhed at his feet.  
  
"We'll teach you ta fuckin' come into our town!" The brown haired, thick bearded leader roared, hurling his club at Alex, who was caught completely off guard and knocked clear off the table as the wood hit him squarely in the face. The mob cheered as it barreled forward toward the vending area, the rest of the shoppers and merchants fleeing in terror. Street fights were not common in Guardia.  
  
He pulled himself up, peering over the table, only to be met with the ferocious strikes of his opponents that pounded at the table, attempting to knock his head from his shoulders. Before he became completely overborne, he slipped underneath the table, planting his legs upon the underside. Grimacing as he felt a foot kick him sharply in the side, he let out a yell, pushing the wine stand upward and forward. They grunted, and did their best to catch the unwieldy piece of "furniture" before it collapsed on one of them. Dodging another kick from the same person, he rushed forward into the teetering bar, and threw his full weight against it, knocking the resistance clear over, and rolling off the other side.  
  
Caught in a mess of cumbersome wood, tapestry and broken, wet glass, the three drunks howled and cursed as they did their best to tear out of the wreckage. Unsheathing his katana, he walked slowly forward, up to the "leader" who was pinned under the brunt of the stand, his head and shoulders sticking out of the clutter. His groggy eyes looked up at Alex as he neared, the sunbeams glinting off the metal edges of his weapon, the blade rising up into the air.  
  
"Oh…I'm terribly sorry, are you…stuck?" He asked, the green jewel encased in the hilt of the katana beginning to emanate a glow around the entire sword, and then around his body as well. "Let's just get you out of there then." The light fled from his body onto and around the heap of struggling bodies and debris, the wreckage beginning to tremble. With a droning sound and the chorus of screams from the remaining onlookers, the pile surged up into the air, the men gawking as they floated above the heads of the stunned crowd. Alexander watched them thoughtfully as they levitated for a moment, and then slid his sword back into its sheath, and turned his back, walking away. Behind him he heard the wails and crashes he knew would surely follow.  
  
"Give this to the brewer, next time you see him. Tell him I apologize for the inconvenience." He said to a young boy who stood frozen in fear before him, handing him a small cloth bag of gold coins. The youth nodded frantically, backing away. Alex smiled, leaving the square.  
  
That oughta make a local legend outta me…  
  
- - -  
  
"Sir?" The attendant repeated for the fourth time, popping the metaphorical daydream bubble that floated above Alexander's head.  
  
"Hmm?" He looked over at her, somewhat disoriented.  
  
"Do you have an appointment or specific destination?"  
  
"Um…oh yes. I'm here to apply for a corporate license."  
  
"Ah. All right, that will be the Licenses and Permits department, room six, second floor." She stated.  
  
"Thanks." He said with a wink, making her blush slightly. He chuckled to himself.  
  
You devil you…lead 'em on and break their hearts…at least she was cute…nice accent there, kid…  
  
He rapped on the door marked with the bright metallic numeral "six", only to be met with a gruff "come in" from the other side. The inside of the office was a bit disheveled, and certainly not very official looking. Nevertheless, it was an office, and it was where he needed to be.  
  
"You here for an inspection warrant there, son?" A corpulent, middle-aged man in a cheap brown suit asked him from behind a cluttered desk.  
  
"Uh…no." He said, confused. The man looked at him awkwardly.  
  
"Well then why are you in the warrant office, then?" Alexander stared, blankly.  
  
"Warrant…office?" He clarified. The man nodded, wondering what wasn't clear about it. "Funny, I was told it was the licensing and permit department in room six on the uh…second floor. Could you, eh, by any chance get me a corporate license anyway?" He asked.  
  
"What are you trying to do? Start a business? When I was your age, son, I was still in-"  
  
"Can you or can you not get me or direct me to a corporate license?" He interrupted, impatiently. Why did people need to ask so many questions? Did they really care what he was doing or just feel like blowing off steam?  
  
"Well, what kind of business are you looking to incorporate? Heh heh." He chuckled. He received a brief pause and another blank stare.  
  
"I'm interested in starting an insurance agency, these are my records, my collateral, my finances, my associates." He strew a mess of papers upon the desk, fully prepared that this might take a while…  
  
Two hours, three background checks, and four triplicate forms later…  
  
"Well, there, Mr. Gainsborough…I can't think of anything else we haven't covered, so if you'll just sign down here, I'll fax this over to the Kipling offices, and you're license and deeds to TradeStar Insurance should be in the mail within a week." Alex stood up, shaking his hand proudly.  
  
"Thank you, sir. Pleasure doing business with you." He was clearly impressed by the professional attitude of such a young entrepreneur.  
  
"Not at all. Best of luck to you and your associates. It's good to see such ambitious youths for a change."  
  
"Oh yes, very ambitious indeed." Alex grinned, taking his coat and walking out of the office. He descended the staircase, shielding his eyes from the shock of the change from the dim office to the bright lobby below.  
  
"Hey you, there." He said, leaning over the front desk. The secretary looked up, ready to assist in her usual helpful way, and then smiled, recognizing him, brushing some of her black hair from her face.  
  
"Yes? Can I help you?"  
  
"Yeah, uh…" He paused, looking down at her nameplate, "…Angelique. I was just, y'know, wondering…" He trailed off, somewhat shyly. She removed her headset, and put her pen down, giving him her full attention.  
  
"Yes?" He swallowed, rather obviously, and looked back at her.  
  
"I was just wondering if you were doing anything after work tonight. I just got a big break. I kinda need somebody to celebrate with. If you were interested, we could go have dinner somewhere, later." He poised. She opened her eyes wide and laughed in astonishment somewhat.  
  
"I…sure! Yes! I…uh…oh, I still have another half-hour, then I have to close the place down…but…"  
  
"Great! I'll stick around."  
  
- - -  
  
"Just about done…" Angelique murmured, finishing up a cover letter, her last task of the long day. Alex emerged from the break room, carrying two drinking mugs.  
  
"Hey, if we're gonna go out, ya need to be awake, right? Stop and smell the coffee." She accepted his gesture.  
  
"Eh, just give me a second. I'll only be five minutes or so…" She said, setting the cup down and typing away.  
  
" Nah, we got all the time in the world. You deserve a coffee break right away." He said with a plastic smile, holding up his coffee, mimicking the popular television commercials. She laughed.  
  
"Oh alright, you've convinced me." And with that, she turned her chair to face him, and imbibed her drink. He watched her carefully, as she noticeably relaxed not half a minute later. He knew he had to help further the process before she caught on.  
  
"So where do you want to go? Green Dragon? Seventh Heaven? Don Tybalte's? You know, I've been to Green Dragon, and their Wutaise cuisine is superb, but then again, the Seventh Heaven is a much more laid back, festive kind of place. Then again, if you really want to live it up, we could go to Tybalte's. Their food is amazing. I mean, like, wow. I went there last year when Junon flounder was in season, and seriously, it was incredible. But did you want to go dancing? 'Cause that would be Seventh Heaven all the way. But if you do pay and extra fee at the Dragon, they do some awesome food preparation show for you. That's always a lot of fun."  
  
Her spiked drink combined with his disconnected droning and her fatigue spiraled her mind into unconsciousness, as she let out a sigh and gently fell back into her chair. He observed her as she sank into a deep sleep, her breathing soft and long. Carefully, he walked around behind the desk, and moved her just enough for him to gain access to her computer. Minimizing the document she had been typing, he quickly brought up a new page, and set to work.  
  
1 Kipling Offices  
  
Midgar, Sector Six  
  
ATTN: Mr. Kipling  
  
Dear Sir,  
  
After inspecting several up-and-coming corporations during our annual review, a new company, TradeStar Insurance has appeared the most promising of all our prospects. Seeing as though we've been relying on Bastion Inc. for such purposes, we thought it would be wise to inform you of our findings, for a newer and more contemporary organization might benefit us. If it is workable into your schedule, we highly recommend you meet with their company president, Alexander Gainsborough sometime in the near future. A full report of their policies and rates has been attached. Mr. Gainsborough may be contacted at this number: 786-656-9343.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Angelique  
  
City hall, Sector Six  
  
He sent the letter, and reopened her document. She was still out, sleeping like a baby. Xanacil would have her out only for a short while, and she would wake up with a very clouded memory. He knocked her drink and then, careful not to hit her into anything, tipped her chair over, crashing her over. She groaned, and awakened with the impact, somewhat stunned. He pretended to rush to her side.  
  
"Angelique, are you okay? You…oh, well, you look all right. Guess they tell your not to lean back in your chair for a reason, eh? Come on, let's get you up." He helped her to her feet.  
  
"I…fell out of my chair?" He laughed, softly.  
  
"Yeah, you were drinking and talking to me and then I guess you slipped. At least you didn't spill your coffee on yourself."  
  
"Oh…sorry…guess I've been working too hard." He nodded, steadying her.  
  
"Hey, if you don't want to go anywhere tonight that's all right, if you just want to go home and rest." She shook her head.  
  
"No, I still want to go, I just need to…ugh…I spilled it everywhere down here…"  
  
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it here. You go get some water or something, maybe lay down for a bit. I'll just finish copying this letter for you." He said, with all earnest.  
  
"Okay. Thanks…thanks so much for you help…I really don't know what got into me…" He smiled.  
  
"That's all right." He stated, watching walk clumsily into the back, still feeling the slight aftereffects of the drug.  
  
2 Poor girl…sorry about that…  
  
He sighed. He hated to do that to a pretty, naive young woman, but he had to. He was on a mission, and whatever steps he needed to take to complete it, he would definitely take.  
  
3 Besides…I'll make it up to her…  
  
3.1 THE END  
  
Part fifteen 


	16. No Place Like Home

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector Six 0004, N.C.E.  
  
Cold and sweating he awoke, face pressed against a rough cold surface. His tongue hung loose and dry, and his eyes were full of uncomfortable grit that made it difficult to keep his eyes open. He could feel a dull pain and taste the blood dripping from his nose, sickeningly moisturizing his parched throat. Gagging and wiping off his burning face with a bruised hand, he felt around with the other, trying to figure out what was happening to him.  
  
Then his ears began to register the deafening array of noise flooding the air.  
  
Explosions, gunshots, shouts, screams, tires screeching, glass breaking…  
  
1 What…?  
  
He ached terribly, trying to turn himself over so he could look up at the sky and snap out of it. He spit the dribbles of blood from his mouth, and coughed, trying to breathe in clear air as he rolled over onto his back, his eyes lazily coming into focus. The sky was gray, overcome by clouds, and the wind was still. He lay in the street, head resting against the curb.  
  
Where am I?  
  
He shouted in surprise and tensed as he heard a bullet ricochet off of a nearby surface.  
  
"Goddammit, Jerry! Hold your damn fire! He's down already!" A man shouted from what was assumed to be the other side of the street. Another voice snarled in discontented correspondence.  
  
"Hell no! These squinty bastards are all going down! Don't care if I have to empty six goddamn clips into each one of their dumb ass heads!" The sound of the chamber being opened and bullets pouring into the metal drifted through the air. His heart began to pound. Whatever was going on, it was not good.  
  
"Jesus, Jerry. Calm the hell down. Put that thing away 'fore you kill someone. It's not our job to do 'em in. Just to bring 'em in." Another one spoke up. They were advancing toward him, and he could now make out their appearances.  
  
There were three men in blue security uniforms, visibly beat about the face, and wearing scuffed and scarred bulletproof vests. The man in the lead held his pistol leveled at his target's head.  
  
"I got most of a mind to blow your stupid Woot head off, you goddamn bastard. Get on your stomach like you were and put your hands behind your back."  
  
Woot? What the hell?  
  
In no state of mind to put up a fight, he complied, rolling over and flopping his hands out lazily. Apparently it wasn't good enough.  
  
"I said behind your back." He ordered, jerking his head up in the air, mashing the barrel of his pistol into his neck.  
  
"Alright! Damn it!" He gasped, trying to do just that. He was responded to with a hard smack on the back of the head, dizzying him.  
  
"Don't talk back to me, you fuckin' freak. Shut the hell up." His arm was painfully wrenched up, and cuffed to the other, and then he was yanked up into the air by all three of them, and thrown against a blue armored car with lights at the top. They rummaged through his pockets, pulling out things he had know idea he carried on him. He had no idea why he was even here. He couldn't remember anything…  
  
"Amazing how well these Yakuza punks are armed. It's like fucking up their own goddamn country isn't good enough, so they gotta come over here and fuck ours up too, assholes. You're all gonna get life for this, I hope you know. You're going down where you belong."  
  
He didn't ask questions. His head ached like the end of the world. His arms burned, and his face was badly bloodied. They could do whatever they wanted to do to him, as long as he could just lose consciousness in the process…  
  
He faded out so much he almost didn't realize it when he heard the squeal of tires and the roar of an engine come from up the street, tearing towards them, automatic gunfire blazing through the air. He felt the guards release him and he fell down to the street, straining his eyes to see. A black car swerved sideways and stopped, and two individuals jumped out the opposite side, taking cover behind the vehicle. One of the officers screamed and fell.  
  
"Shit! Get in the car! Now!!" Jerry screamed to his remaining companion, tearing the doors of the police car open, and starting the engine. One of the people at the other end of the street leapt over the car, and raced down the street, loading another clip into his gun. Furiously the policemen tried to get their car moving before he closed, but as the engine roared into drive, he jumped up onto the hood of the car, letting his bullets rain through the windshield.  
  
"Woot that, mother fucker!!" He shouted triumphantly, stepping off the hood, leaving two bloody messes inside the car. Kicking away whatever was left of the glass, he rummaged through the car, collecting the firearms from the dead and dying officers, and then he walked out calmly through the door, approaching the man in the street. "You alright there? Looks like you took some bad smacking around. Can you stand up?"  
  
He stared up at him blankly, mouth slightly open.  
  
"Epsilon, can you speak? Are you okay?" He bent down beside him.  
  
Epsilon? Me…?  
  
"Shit, they smacked him up bad. Zeta! Help me get him into the car! Don't worry, man. We'll get you back all right. You did great. Just don't take on that many next time."  
  
"Who are you?" He said in a hoarse voice, looking up at his visitor. He was thin, tanned, and wore black-rimmed eyeglasses with yellowish lenses. His hair was oddly colored gold, and he wore strange black clothes. He slapped himself on the forehead and shook his head back and forth.  
  
"Man, just don't ask too many questions. Sleep it off, you'll be fine, alright? We have to get out of here now." He felt another set of hands take his shoulders, and the man in front of him lifted his legs, into the open door of the black car, which had driven nearer.  
  
The interior of the car was dim, cool, and the seats were comfortable. The two people set him down, laying him across the back seats of the car.  
  
"You okay there?" One of them asked. She was a girl with a soft voice and a pretty face. She reminded him of someone, indirectly.  
  
"Yeah…I think I'll be okay." He whispered. She smiled, comfortingly.  
  
"Xi will be glad to hear it." He looked at her, askance.  
  
"Xi?" She closed the door before he could hear an answer, if there even was one.  
  
  
  
The car drove for a long while, the tinted windows in the back not letting much light through. He could hear faint whispers of a conversation from the front, but he paid no attention. He was doing his best not to think, and just last until they got to wherever they were taking him, and he could have his face cleaned and go to sleep. After a while, the vehicle slowed, and then stopped, some gravel crunching under the tires. The doors on either side of him opened, and the two lifted him out of the car, and up onto his feet. He blinked a few times, looking around.  
  
They were inside some sort of garage, humid air thick and rising around them. Other vehicles were parked, being worked on, half-finished, and otherwise strewn about. Tire marks and chewing gum were stuck to the cracked cement floor, and the only exits appeared to be the giant retracting bay doors, and a small metal door on the wall with a rusting padlock on the handle. The girl walked around in front of him. He got a somewhat better look at her. She was relatively short, barely five feet tall, and once again, he felt her black hair and almond eyes bring back a rush of odd visions of someone…someone he couldn't recall or describe, yet seemed a part of his mind.  
  
"You doing alright, Epsilon? Can you walk now? Chi, maybe we should help him out." She took his arm, and helped stabilize him as she led him over to the metal door. "Open it for me, will ya?" She said, impatiently. Chi sighed and walked over to the door, taking a key out of his black jacket and shoving it into the lock, twisting it open. Epsilon walked into the dark space in the wall, unassisted, and waited for someone to turn on a light.  
  
He saw the other two, still standing in the dimly lit garage strapping goggles around their heads. The girl called "Zeta" laughed.  
  
"Chi, you forgot to give him his Night Vision, duh." Chi, rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ugh…they're probably in the car with the rest of his crap. Forget it, we'll just walk him in. I'm sure he doesn't care if it's all bright green inside." Epsilon was still silent. "Come on. Grab my hand." Chi told him. He complied, almost like an automaton. On the way, he tripped a few times over differences in the flooring, bumped into either of them, and strained his eyes to make any kind of shape out of the darkness, pointlessly. Eventually someone opened a door, light rushing into the room. They pulled him through the doorway.  
  
The room was run-down looking. A shoddy looking table sat in the middle of the tastelessly colored tile scheme. Cracks ran through the white walls, and chunks of plaster were missing from the ceiling. Chi picked up a half- filled coffee mug from the table and imbibed the contents, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.  
  
"Okay, first things first. Let's get Epsilon cleaned up, get him some sleep. Then we'll get to the…holy shit!! Epsilon, you got the Materia, right? Right?" Epsilon looked back at him blankly.  
  
"…Materia?" Chi punched the table.  
  
"Fuck!! That was the whole point! Why the hell else were you out there? Huh?! Where's the damn Materia? Jesus, man. If you lost the shit, I swear I'm gonna…" Zeta elbowed him in the ribs. "Ah! Bitch! Don't touch me! Don't'cha realize what this means?! We're gonna get- mmph!" She shoved a paper napkin into his mouth, ceasing his babble.  
  
"Shh…calm down. Here, I have some left over." She pulled out a small jar from her jacket, and shook two yellow pills out of it, handing them over. His eyes lit up and fixated upon them, as he spit the napkin out of his mouth, and shoveled them in, taking them with the last of his coffee. He swallowed, and shook his head violently, a crazy smile twisted on his face.  
  
"Oh…thank you so much, baby! You are god, you know that? C'mere." He pulled her close and kissed her face messily. She laughed, uncomfortably, but pushed him away, as he bounced on his heels, walking around and then out of the room in an energy rush, laughs coming from him sporadically. "Gonna find that damn Materia."  
  
"Uh…okay." Epsilon mused, shocked. Zeta giggled.  
  
"Ah, we give him what he wants. Besides, it's entertaining, isn't it?" He shrugged, waiting nervously. "Hey, I'll go see if Xi is up. She'll be glad to see you." She turned and left, returning shortly after. "Nah, she's still out like a light. She was up late the past few days, but she'll be happy you're home when she wakes up later."  
  
Xi…who is that?  
  
"Here, sit up on the table. I'll get some stuff to clean you up."  
  
"Okay…thanks, Zeta." He sat down, kicking his legs slightly back and forth. He felt around his face with his hands, wincing at the pangs of discomfort. His lips were busted up, his nose was hurt badly, and his eyes and cheeks felt cut and bruised. "Ouch…" He murmured.  
  
She reemerged from the back with some alcohol and cloths, setting them down on the table next to him. Without her waist-length jacket, she wore a black sleeveless shirt, and red dragon tattoos flowed down her arms.  
  
More flashes…memories he couldn't remember…  
  
He couldn't even feel the sting of the cleaning of his face, and kept staring at those tattoos of hers.  
  
"Hey, lose the jacket. I'll see if you were hurt anywhere else." He wasn't even aware that he was wearing a jacket as well, just like Zeta's and Chi's. He tiredly pulled it off, putting it aside. He froze.  
  
He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt.  
  
Red dragon tattoos flowed down his arms.  
  
He screamed, making her scream and drop the bottle. It shattered all over the floor.  
  
"What?! What happened? Are you hurt?" She stammered. He shook like a leaf in the wind.  
  
"N-no…nothing happened. I-I just need to sleep that's all. This is all just too confusing…" He started to get up, but she pushed him back.  
  
"Look, just hold still. I know it's tough, but you gotta pull through, somehow. Do whatever you need to, just let me finish up and then go off to bed, alright?" He breathed heavily, and nodded.  
  
Somehow…  
  
  
  
"Thanks a lot. I feel kinda better now. Where's…where's my room?" He asked, sheepishly. She raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You don't know where your own…oh, whatever. Go down that hall, third door on the left. The one with the doorknob that hangs off its hinges kinda. You'll remember. We all did."  
  
"Okay…" He said, walking sluggishly down the hallway.  
  
"G'night, Epsilon." She called. He turned just for a moment.  
  
"Good night." He said. Down the hallway there were four doors. One was shut, the next was open, and Chi was sitting on a bare mattress, watching a television and laughing his head off, trying to stifle the noise. Ironically, whatever he was watching didn't look particularly funny. His room was next, apparently. He flicked the light on, revealing the extremely bleak, almost empty room. A dresser, a lamp with a crooked shade, a cracked mirror, and a bed with white sheets were all that resided inside.  
  
As long as there's a place to sleep, I guess…  
  
He looked in the mirror. He didn't recognize the face he saw. True, he was beaten, but the man in the mirror was almost unknown to him. His hair was cut close around the sides and back, and was somewhat long and spiky red on top. His eyes looked tired and sad, and his tattoos…he lifted his shirt to see the whole design. It was design of a long red serpent, or several of them, that winded from his wrists, across his chest, down his other arm, and finally stopped at the other wrist.  
  
Am I…one of them? But who are "they"?  
  
He walked out into the hallway again, peering in through Chi's open door. He still sat there chortling at the newscaster who droned through the speaker. Sure enough, he was wearing the same clothes, and possessed the identical markings on his arms.  
  
What could that mean…?  
  
He was about to go back into his room, when he noticed that the next one's door was slightly open. The light was off, yet he thought he could hear some noise coming from the inside. Carefully, he crept closer, listening at the door. Someone was asleep inside, breathing softly.  
  
Xi, maybe?  
  
He pushed the door open quietly, making sure not to step on anything that would create a disturbance. The edge of the door less than a foot from the jamb, he slid his head through the opening, and spent a moment letting his eyes adjust to the dark.  
  
The room was cluttered with things: pieces of clothing on the floor, gadgets on the desk, a jacket slung over the desk. Whoever lived in the room was wrapped in blankets on the bed, which was rather larger and in better shape than the one in his room. He could hear the person's breath clearly now, definitely that of a female…  
  
This must be her…  
  
The door didn't make too much noise, so he opened it, stepped in, and closed it behind him. With the dim moonlight drifting in through the open, shade less window, he could easily make his way around without crashing into anything. He approached her, running his hand up the blanket, along her body. The touch made him feel warm inside. She tossed slightly, almost as if she were about to awaken, but then lay still again. He could see her smooth black hair against the white cloth, and her fine eyes fluttering in her sleep. He felt his heart swell. Zeta wasn't the girl he was thinking of, this was.  
  
"Xi..." He whispered, touching her face. The memory of her took shape in his mind. Although the name didn't strike him as familiar, the more he gazed down at her, the more he remembered her.  
  
We met in a…in a restaurant…no…something like that…and it was me, and…a friend, I think. And…yes…this has to be her…  
  
And the more he thought about it, the more he remembered still.  
  
Was I with that guy Chi? I think…I think I might have been. Yeah. And Zeta…it…that's right, it was her restaurant, wasn't it? And then today, today we were getting Materia…and I think I did good, right? Yeah…yeah, Chi said I did well. He must be a good friend of mine…he saved my ass back there. Guess I don't remember much because I got beat up a lot…oh well…I'll talk to them all about it later…  
  
He took one last look at her, sealing her image in his mind, and then left the room, walking out into the hallway, and re-closing her door. The other doors were closed now, all except his, which still hung open. The lights in the den and the kitchen areas were out; Zeta most likely had turned them off when she went to bed. He walked back down to his room, and flicked the light on, kicking his shoes off. He guessed he might be able to call this place home. At least he had friends around him. Just as he was about to drop down into bed, he heard something…something outside his room, perhaps down the hallway. He moved back to his doorway, and looked out, down the hall.  
  
The rooms to all the doors were still closed, and the lights in the den and kitchen were out. He stood there, not breathing for a moment, checking again for any sounds.  
  
Just the building settling…  
  
He figured. And then he shut out the light, closed his door, and went to sleep…  
  
In the shadows of the kitchen, a small, wicked smile formed under pale green eyes.  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
Part Sixteen 


	17. Caution: Wet Blood

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector 7, 0005 N.C.E.  
  
Cloud was never a big fan of television. In fact, he usually avoided wasting his time in front of the set unless something extremely important was being broadcast on the news. Otherwise, he would much prefer spending time with his son, or his wife, or training his combat skills, or just about anything else besides watching normal television programming. It wasn't that he thought it was a stupid invention; it was just that he never found himself relating to the characters on the screen. Why should he care about some actor pretending to have a relationship problem?  
  
Nevertheless, he somehow found himself seated next to Tifa, watching "Burnt," a hip, drug-promoting, late-night, "real life comedy" show in which the lead character, stumbled around town incoherently, making a fool of himself to get a laugh out of his viewers. The only thing he found at all funny about it was the fact that some poor stoner, sitting glazed on his mother's couch somewhere was probably roaring with glee at the display of stupidity.  
  
"Wow…since when did saying something louder make it funnier?" Cloud mused, with his face leaning on his hand, mashing some of his words as the laugh track played in the background. "This guy is such an ass. How does this crap stay on the air? Seriously…"  
  
"Aw, come on. It's pretty funny sometimes." Tifa said. He smirked.  
  
"I've had funnier root canals."  
  
"Shh…I wanna hear this." He squirmed, uncomfortably. Doing "us time" stuff like this never really appealed to him. He wasn't even talking to her, they were just sitting together, staring at a plywood box. He did his best to think of something…  
  
"I'm gonna go get a drink, check my messages, and maybe see how Truss is doing." He announced to her, standing up. "Be back in a little while." He kissed her on the cheek, and out into the kitchen he went. He grabbed one of those drinks with the fruit juice and the shot of alcohol mixed into it from the fridge. He thought they were wimpy, but it was the only thing in there at the moment. Heading upstairs to his office, he flipped the switch on the wall, which literally gave life to the whole room. He liked his office. It was one of the only rooms entirely of his own design, and it was where he could sit and think quietly, in a productive setting.  
  
The ergonomic chair was amazingly comfortable, well worth all of its price. It came straight from Wutai, and innovation of one of their top holistic doctors. Yuffie used to rave about how wonderful the technology was.  
  
Oh my god, you've never been in one? It's sooo cool! I mean, it's so comfy, you can like, do anything in one. Work, sleep, make out, whatever! Geez, first boyfriend I get, we're so gonna make out in one…I can't wait…  
  
He chuckled, with a sigh, remembering the times she used to ramble on about the craziest things just to keep her mind off the danger they were constantly in. Although sometimes he wished she'd deflate or pop or something he, deep down inside, missed having her around. It hurt him to see his wife devastated by the loss of her best friend, just a few weeks before her twenty-first birthday last November. It hurt him even more when he didn't know what to do to help her get through grieving.  
  
Even that guy Crono, the young, wild-eyed, sort of daredevil character he sometimes missed. At first Cloud couldn't stand the sight of him, but after some long thoughts about their very brief interactions with each other, he wondered if maybe the two of them could have been friends someday. Seeing Crono and Yuffie sheepishly falling for each other brought back feelings he hadn't experienced since he was a young boy, looking up at Tifa's window. He saw the pain in Crono's face, the same pain he felt when he was cast out of the group by the "in crowd" as a kid, and the hopelessness Crono felt when she disappeared, the same hopelessness he had when Tifa was in a coma, expected to die in a matter of days.  
  
Their fates were a mystery. They had both been targets of attack by Sephiroth and his two cohorts, both assaults in relatively close proximity. While Yuffie was seen being taken away, Crono had disappeared from his hotel room days later, without a trace. Only the worst could have been assumed for them.  
  
1 I hope they can be together on the other side…  
  
Tifa had said to him, the night it was confirmed that further investigation of their disappearances was futile and not likely to turn up anything. The next day, Cloud furiously went to speak with President Kipling, and demanded that he be granted authority to destroy Sephiroth before the public panicked over his return at all costs, and requested government assistance in doing so. Not wanting to argue at all with a man of such reputation in such a mood, Kipling agreed, granting Strife an open-ended budget for the dispatch of Sephiroth.  
  
A week's worth of day-and-night planning produced enough information on Sephiroth's next known isolated whereabouts to prepare a sabotage of the area. The scientist Lucca and the magician Magus combined their skills to infiltrate and rig with powerful explosives the warehouse, which was a black market Materia junction, under the table, that he was due to arrive at. Having police-raided the place an hour early, the warehouse was cleared out in time for his arrival, and as soon as the hidden cameras picked his image up on film, the interior of the building burst into flames, and the structure instantly gave way and collapsed, damaging little elsewhere on the deserted street. Sephiroth was confirmed dead after charred leather with DNA traces were found. No skeletal remains were uncovered, but it was stated that like the last time he had been destroyed, his body had completely disintegrated into the Lifestream. Nevertheless, Sephiroth was gone, and the Strifes slept a little easier at night.  
  
The Guardian Kingdom was still standing across the plains, but it seemed to be growing farther and farther away, the space between it and Midgar expanding rapidly. Some suggested that a wall be built between the lands, preventing culture shock and violence, but the far majority was apathetic. They didn't much care about primitive civilizations, and had no real desire to visit their land. Besides, stranger things had happened to their world.  
  
Strife was told that he had done all he could for his people, once again, and had saved the world a great deal of upset and danger. Yet still he felt empty inside, having lost two comrades to the cause. But five months time had passed, Cid's birthday was only a few weeks ago, and friends, family, and moving on had helped ease the pain.  
  
He hated scrolling through his emails; ninety-five percent of them were garbage. Rarely did he get something that was meaningful or important, like,  
  
Yo, Cloud,  
  
What's crackin', whiteboy? You 'an the missus still bouncing off the walls? Heh heh. Jus' playin'. Cid's party was a blast, man. We should hook up mo', like the old days. I know me and Marlene live a long way away, but come drop by Mideel sometime. Yo' ass is always welcome 'round here. Tell the gang I said hello.  
  
Barret.  
  
It was a pleasant surprise. His contact with his former "boss" had dwindled over the years, but occasionally they reached out. He kept scrolling down the list. One was from "Sk8rDude19". It read,  
  
Hey man, what's goin' on? It's Leon, just checking in on you guys. We haven't had much to do with each other since Costa Del Sol, but maybe we could get back in touch some time. I live way downtown, Sector Six. Give me a ring sometime. 786-247-7790. Adios, amigo.  
  
He chuckled. He figured after what it must've been like for an ordinary teenager to flung into such an ordeal, Leon wouldn't have wanted anything to do with them ever again.  
  
I guess he's a pretty forgiving guy…  
  
He knew he'd been rather inconsiderate of the young man's feelings, but in times of need, leadership outweighed tact by far. Maybe he and Tifa could pay him a visit sometime.  
  
Ah, what the hell…  
  
He picked the cordless up off the desk, pushing the button that ejected the mouthpiece and activated the interface. Dialing in the numbers, he finished off the last of his drink, the alcohol relaxing him a little. The receiving line picked up. A young woman answered.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, is Leon there?" He asked.  
  
"Uh huh. He's right here."  
  
"Yo?" He picked up the receiver.  
  
"Hey, man. It's Cloud. I got your letter and figured I'd give you a ring."  
  
"Cloud! Dude, what's happenin'? How's the gang?"  
  
"We're good, just relaxing after a long day. You?"  
  
"Ah, not much. I'm hanging with Mel, watchin' Burnt. Ever watch that show? It's awesome shit!" Cloud rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yeah. It's really…uh…intelligent. Teef's downstairs now watching it."  
  
"Good stuff. Hey, if you guys aren't busy tomorrow night, we could go make a night of it somewhere. I don't got any plans." He offered.  
  
"Hmm…sure, I don't think we're busy tomorrow. Teef has work…hm…hey, you and Melanie could come down to Seventh Heaven, then come back to our place after closing."  
  
"Sounds great! Hey, I'd love to stay and chat, man, but the show's back on. Don't wanna miss a new episode. Call you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Sure thing. Talk to you later." He pressed the off button, closing up the phone, and setting it back in the cradle. For a while he read through more emails, trashing the majority of them. He picked up the bottle from the open windowsill, and turned it upside-down, letting any sparse, remaining drops fall down his throat.  
  
Damn…shoulda brought two…  
  
Closing out of the electronic mail window, Cloud reluctantly left the chair, and opened the door to the upstairs hallway. Walking out, he checked on his son, whom was out, lost in the depths of sleep. Then he proceeded down the stairs, almost stumbling once, but catching himself. He chuckled; he didn't drink that much.  
  
He headed back to the kitchen, this time grabbing a can of clear soda. He could still hear the television in the living room. A commercial for the upcoming eleven o' clock news was playing right now.  
  
"Teef, guess who I just talked to on the phone?" He called out, putting the unopened can in his pocked and closing the fridge door. He could hear her barely utter a grunt of a reply. "Oh, come on, guess. At least try." Again, she just muttered something unintelligible. Frustrated, he walked toward the couch she sat on, and walked around the side. "I just got off the phone with…Teef? You okay?"  
  
She was lying slack on the couch, her eyes dazed and barely open. She looked up at him, and moved her lips lazily, but nothing came out but a feeble whisper.  
  
"Somethings…wrong…"  
  
"Honey? What's going on, are you sick?" He questioned her. He began to panic. She nodded.  
  
"I'm so…tired…I can't…" She faded out, her head falling to the side. He grabbed her shoulders.  
  
"What happened? You want to go upstairs?"  
  
"No…air…" Sweat poured off his head. The room felt so hot, yet he tried to stay in control.  
  
"I'll get you outside…hang on…" He scooped her up, and ran to the nearest exit, the glass sliding doors in the kitchen. Throwing them open, he ran a few steps out onto the patio, and laid her down on one of the outdoor lounges by the garden. The air outside was a little chilly, but the house felt stifling.  
  
Something's not right…  
  
The outdoors seemed to be a relief for her, and him as well. He knelt beside her body, watching her open her eyes again, breathing somewhat deep sighs of reprieve.  
  
"What…about Truss?" she huffed. He jumped.  
  
"Shit…I'll be one second…" He said, running back into the house. No doubt about it, it was like peak summertime indoors, and it was still winter outside! Nevertheless, there was no time for guessing games, as he bolted up the stairs to his son's room, grabbing his unconscious, sweating body from his bed, and ripping off some blankets to take with him. Within seconds he was back outside, setting Truss down on another lounge.  
  
"How is he?" She asked her husband. Cloud felt his forehead. It was hot, but his son coughed, and looked around, almost in shock.  
  
"You okay there, sport? Hot enough for ya?"  
  
"Yea…Dad…what's…what's goin' on? What happened?"  
  
"Don't worry. I'm taking care of everything. I'll get you two something to drink right away." He grabbed for the soda in his pocket, but decided against it. With all his dashing around, he must have shaken it to an explosive level. Rushing back inside, he grabbed all the cold drinks he could carry from the refrigerator, and bundled them in his arms.  
  
"Here, Teef, can you handle these? I've gotta find out what the problem is." She nodded, and he handed her the drinks.  
  
He approached his home with caution, not sure exactly what he was getting into. Scanning around the perimeter for any kind of clue as to the interior problem, he noticed something on the side of the house. The furnace was roaring in the basement.  
  
That's gotta be it…  
  
He walked through the sweltering rooms of his mansion, down to the hallway by the basement door where the thermostat lie, and saw that it was reading a temperature of one hundred twenty degrees.  
  
How the hell didn't I notice?!  
  
He slammed, almost maliciously, the off button down, and waited to hear the rumbling stop.  
  
It didn't.  
  
Again and again he pushed the shutoff, but no response came. Something was wrong with the machine. Looking down the hall at one of the vents, he could see a thin smoke, only visible in the dark, drift out of the vents.  
  
Gas!  
  
He threw open the basement door, and charged down the stairs, determined to destroy the sabotaged furnace if he had to.  
  
The light snapped on, and he grabbed a wrench from a workbench of his, and took after the machine, straining as it maintained its highest possible function. He looked around its surface for a way to shut it off manually, but was cautious not to come in contact with it. That might prove extremely painful. Sure enough there was a manual shutoff valve that he used the wrench to twist until the machine slowed to a grinding halt. Panting, he let himself relax…just for a moment…  
  
He swung around, lashing out behind him with the wrench, the source of noise he thought he'd heard dodging the swing. He could see her clearly. She wore a black assassins uniform, the only part of her exposed her eyes, those which were definitely Wutaise.  
  
He held his "weapon" at the ready, and stared her down.  
  
"Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?" He demanded, angrily. "What kind of shit did you just try to pull? Come on, good think I caught your little ninja ass before you did something that really made me pissed at you. What the fuck are you doing in my house. Huh?" She looked like she was ready to fight him, and in response to his question, threw a jab at him, which he slammed aside with his wrench, a cry of pain escaping her lips. "No funny shit. Talk." He ordered. She looked around. He wasn't completely comfortable jumping at her. She might have a concealed weapon to stab into him. He needed another way to subdue her and get his information.  
  
He slipped the unopened soda can out of his jeans pocket. "Here." He said. "Want some soda? Maybe that will make you talk to me." Her eyes widened. He smiled inside. He'd baited her. He held it up, her hand extending to take it. "Nah, on second thought, you'd just spray it in my face, wouldn't ya. Just like this." He popped the top off with his thumb, and let the stream of carbonated beverage explode into her eyes. She reeled back in shock, clutching at her eyes. Rushing forward, he grabbed her upper arms from behind, and forced her downward, face down onto the floor as she choked and spit liquid out of her mouth.  
  
Securing her elbows to the tiled floor with his knees, he reached for her mask, pulling it over and off her head, her black hair falling loose. What he saw made his eyes widen in shock.  
  
"…Yuffie?" He said, astonished. She buried her face against the tiled floor, trying not to let him see her. "Is that you? You're alive after all?" He asked once again, shocked. She breathed, heavily and with some difficulty.  
  
"Yes…please let me up…" She whispered. He hesitated.  
  
"Yuffie, what are you doing? Why did you break into my house?"  
  
"Please let me up." She repeated. "I'm sorry, I can explain. Just let me up. Please…I'm injured…" He frowned at the situation.  
  
"I have your word you won't try anything?"  
  
"Yes." She insisted. He released the pressure on her arms, and kneeled to the side of her. He couldn't believe what was going on.  
  
"What happened to you? I thought you were…"  
  
"Dead…I know…listen…it's really complicated. I can't explain right now. I need some help fast. I had to knock you guys out with the gas so I could use your house as a place to rest. Maybe get these…oh…bullets outta me."  
  
"I'm glad its just you, let me help you up. Talk to me about it later. I'll need to know everything though. Here…" He took her hand, and pulled her up carefully, helping her up the stairs. For a moment, she stopped walking. He stopped pulling her forward, and looked back. "What's wrong? You need to rest?"  
  
"Sorry." She stated, blankly.  
  
"I understand." He tried to assure. She stared still, expressionless.  
  
"No. You never will." And she yanked his arm downward with such force that he careened down the staircase, sprawling out at the bottom. "Goodbye." She said from the doorway, and she slammed it behind her. He could hear the locks on the basement door clicking shut. She had double- crossed him. With a groan of severe discomfort, he pushed himself up, and ran to the window that lay perpendicular to the soil outside in the front yard. He could see her run out the front door, and meet up with several other people, all black shapes.  
  
What the…  
  
He flung himself backward, bullets blasting through the basement windows. He rolled behind his workbenches, sliding into old paint cans and wallpaper from renovations, screaming out in mock pain after the first salvo halted. He knew they were trying to find out if they'd gotten him. Screaming wasn't going to be convincing enough. A crazy idea in his head, he rummaged through the paint, tearing the lid off the can of red. Not bothering to be aesthetic at all, he poured it all over his white t-shirt, and let a pool of it spill out onto the floor before pushing the can out of sight, and lying as still as possible.  
  
It was silent for a moment, he then heard the assassins come around to another window, looking down at his crumpled, "bloody" body. He prayed they'd fall for it.  
  
"Okay, let's go" one of them finally whispered, and he heard their footsteps leave the window.  
  
A while later, he smeared the paint off his face, and stood up, amidst the puddle.  
  
They were going to pay, whoever they were.  
  
THE END  
  
Part Seventeen 


	18. Clash Of The Titans

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector 7, 0005 N.C.E.  
  
Cloud's night was relatively sleepless. Just a few hours before, his house had been the victim of attack, and his life was almost lost under a barrage of screaming bullets. On top of it all, his wife and child were now missing, taken hostage while he lay, feigning death, in the basement.  
  
He tried to tell himself that he did the best he could, and that he'd get them back, without a hair on either of their heads having been harmed, but he still felt anxiety. Even though he fully trusted his wife's ability to handle dangerous situations, she was in a compromising position. She was also the victim of deadly and ruthless assassins.  
  
Which brought more thoughts into his head. If Yuffie was alive, then why had she not made contact with them? What had her cryptic comments meant? Why was she working against her former friends, if not downright trying to dispose of them? If Yuffie was alive, was he then to believe that Crono was among that group that attacked his mansion?  
  
He wanted to pursue them, god, how he wanted to strap his blade across his back and tear out of the house at full speed and hunt down and destroy the terrorists, yet such an action would have been downright foolish of him. He knew quite well that the dark, desolate night was the home turf of the ninja, and that he wouldn't last long before firearm nozzles blasted steel into his heart. Besides, he'd stalled to long waiting for them to leave and stop shooting at him. Wherever they'd fled to most likely was nowhere that he would find them, especially in the dead of night.  
  
The sun was coming up over the horizon, golden streaks pouring in through the Venetian blinds, when, all of a sudden, the telephone rang. He blinked his bloodshot eyes a few times, and then hurled the blankets aside, stumbling out of bed. He'd been wearing the same paint-stained clothing the whole time. He checked the call ID. The number was blocked. He hesitated.  
  
1 Could be a trap…  
  
But the ringing persisted. So much so that he finally caved it and picked up the receiver.  
  
"Hello." He said, dryly.  
  
"Oh, thank god…" The tired voice whispered on the other end. His eyes widened in shock.  
  
"Tifa?! Where are you? Are you hurt?" He shouted, question-form.  
  
"I'm with Truss. We're both okay. We're just…trapped." She continued to whisper, barely detectably.  
  
"Trapped? Trapped where?" Cloud questioned.  
  
"I…I think it's in…Corneo's mansion…it looks like one of the rooms, but…"  
  
"You mean City Hall? They refinished his place after he was killed. It's City Hall now, is that where you are?"  
  
"I guess so. Please come get us, Cloud. I'm scared, I…"  
  
"Don't be afraid. You're strong. One of the strongest people I know. I'll be there soon, don't you worry. Tell Truss the cavalry's coming." He said, psyching himself up.  
  
"No, Cloud, wait. You don't understand…Crono and Yuffie, they're…they're alive! They're here! I don't know what's wrong with them, but Cloud, please, don't hurt them; they're not themselves. They walk around like they're dreaming, and when I…" He interrupted her whisper, which grew more and more distressed as she continued speaking.  
  
"Listen. I'll be there in no time. Tell me on the way home, okay? I love you, Tifa. I'll be right there." He hung up the phone, and opened his closet, switching into his dark blue, sleeveless battle clothes and combat boots. In the closet, below folded clothes and blankets, was a long, metal case. He dragged it out of the closet, and blew the dust off the top. Inside were the armlets and sword he'd brought to battle the day he invaded the North Cave. Rarely had he removed them from their case, but he wasn't much of a showoff when it came to equipment. Besides, the ninja would have hunted the stuff down and stolen it if it was public knowledge that he owned them.  
  
He strapped the sword christened the Ultima Weapon over his shoulder, and tightened the Ziedrich armlets around his wrists. The Materia was still in the blade; right where he'd last left it, in case he ever needed the sword in a hurry.  
  
Five minutes after he ended the phone conversation, he was out of the house, and opening the driver's side door to his car. He put the sword on the seat next to him, and kicked the car into first gear, tearing out of the circular driveway.  
  
  
  
It didn't come as much of a surprise to Cloud that the Sector Six City Hall parking lot was empty. He'd suspected that it might have been seized by the assassins, but wasn't letting the details of the situation bother him. He had a goal, and it required his full concentration. Anything else was secondary. He backed the vehicle into a parking space, and got out, pulling his weapon with him, ready for action.  
  
He marched up the steps, observing the scene. The front doors were open, unusually, and the interior lights were dim, even more unusually.  
  
2 This place usually a beacon…this seems odd…better be careful…  
  
He activated a barrier of magical reflection using the Materia in his sword, the faint green arch of light appearing in front of him for just a moment, and then dissipating into the air. He suspected some magic-induced foul play within…  
  
Carefully he approached, no signs of activity in the building as of yet. He looked around. The center of the room was large and open the only object on the floor a high-walled front desk. Two curved staircases led up toward three rooms at the top on an elevated second level. The false candles on the chandeliers created star like patterns, that danced around the floors and walls as the draft from the open door blew them back and forth. There were no windows to let the daylight in, and thick curtains hung over the doorway, dampening the light.  
  
3 Strange atmosphere for City Hall…  
  
Then he saw them: the tips of red spiky hair protruding beyond the headrest of the leather computer chair at the front desk. It was facing the rear hall of the room, so that only the back of the leather computer chair was visible from Cloud's vantage point.  
  
Crono…you're still hanging around after all…hell, might as well say hi…  
  
He casually strolled up to the desk, and grabbed the chair, spinning it around with some force. Crono, or at least someone that looked like Crono almost jumped out of his skin in surprise. His hair was much shorter, and his face looked a lot harder and colder than its usual smiley, curious look. He was dressed like a Yakuza street fighter. He even had the infamous dragon tattoos.  
  
"Well look who it is. Put it here, pal." Cloud said with a forced grin, extending his hand toward Crono. Crono looked at him in sheer astonishment and confusion. "Come on. Let's let bygones be bygones." He offered, trying to avoid a fight like his wife requested.  
  
"You!" Crono shouted, snapping his fist into Cloud's face and standing up. Cloud winced in pain, but punched Crono back, reflexively, dropping him back down into the chair.  
  
"Way to say hello, jerk." Strife grimaced. Crono snarled at him, and shoved him out of the cubicle with a kick. The blonde swordsman maintained his footing, and unleashed his weapon into the forefront. He was about to slash at Crono, keeping him pinned in a corner, but halted, as the Kensai's cocked hand blazed with blue electricity. Cloud backed up, bracing himself for the inevitable magical blast headed his way. His teeth ground together as the bolt seared through the air, the electricity in the air making his blade buzz slightly.  
  
Only the pain never came, the faint green barrier appeared once again, absorbing the bolt, and hurling it straight back at his opponent. Crono flew backward, slamming against the reception counter, his body jittering with the current.  
  
I knew that spell would come in handy…  
  
As Crono cursed and stifled a painful scream that wanted to pass through his lips, Cloud rushed forward, plastering him up onto the counter. Paperweights and office supplies flew off the countertop and clattered to the floor in a heap. Cloud executed a quick maneuver, practiced many times in the military. He laid the blade of his sword across his opponent's throat, leaning it towards the hilt. A bit of pressure on the opposite end of the weapon would cut deep into the victim's neck almost instantly. Crono stared up at him furiously, hate and fear burning in his eyes. He could feel the blood pounding in the crucial arteries of his neck. Cloud spoke.  
  
"Listen Crono, you're not yourself. Someone's been messing with your mind. I want to help you but you have to cooperate." The fiery-haired Kensai struggled with the sword, futilely.  
  
"Never!" He hissed, trying to kick Cloud, who was too close for a kick to hit.  
  
"You're not supposed to be here Crono. You're not a Yakuza. You're not an assassin. You're with us, remember?" Crono tried to slip his legs around Cloud's to find someway to offset his balance.  
  
"My name is Epsilon, and you are the oppressors! It is my duty, my giri to destroy you!" He roared, and he wedged his feet between Cloud's knees, and raked Cloud's legs out from under him. The soldier dropped down and landed flat on his back with a thump.  
  
Shit, get up! Get up!  
  
He scrambled back, and turned instinctively with the Ultima Weapon ready to parry the incoming. He was up just in time to see Crono draw not one, but two katanas, and lash them down at him, the metals' collision filling the air with a sharp crack. Both sets of blades were locked in a power struggle against each other. Cloud rose up, and gave way to the push slightly, taking a few steps back.  
  
As Strife backed up, Crono released his press, and dodged the thrust he expected would follow. He let out a whoop of adrenaline, and spun like a blender, attacking slash after slash in a spiral of katanas. Cloud strained and swerved to keep up with the onslaught. He stayed calm within, concentrating only on the movements, yet he started to sweat, maintaining his jerky defense.  
  
This little bastard's having fun, isn't he…I'll give him something to smile about…  
  
Cloud blocked high, and stomped down on Crono's foot, unchaining a powerful horizontal slice across his adversary's upper chest. Crono howled in fury, his clothing torn and staining. Cloud almost felt a little sorry for him.  
  
Almost.  
  
Crono threw a terrifying combination of hacking strikes Cloud's way, trying to break through his tough defense. The cuts came tearing in from all directions, some lightly breaking the soldier's flesh, others beating down his guard. Unable to hold his position much longer without being cut up like meat, Strife backed the fight up the left staircase. Carefully he walked backward, one step up at a time, Crono slowing his advance. The kensai sheathed one sword.  
  
What's he up to…?  
  
Crono came in again, swinging rather obviously with his one katana and grabbing the ball at the end of the banister with his open hand. Cloud effortlessly overpowered the weak attack, but was caught completely by surprise by the follow-up.  
  
Holy shit…  
  
He did his best to get out of the way as Crono leapt up off the stairs and looped his body over the railing. The Yakuza's foot came hurtling in from the right, hitting Cloud squarely in the side of the neck. The soldier saw bright colors before his eyes as he stumbled flat across the stairwell. He heard his opponent draw the other katana again, and spring off the rail.  
  
"Rrrgh!" Cloud grimaced, forcing his aching shoulder muscles to roll him downward a few steps. The bumps from level to level hurt his sore neck almost as much as the kick did. As he resurfaced, he heard both blades slice into the carpet, leaving long slits in the fabric. Crono was significantly above him now, bouncing his body weight from leg to leg, ready to continue the fight. Cloud stared at him, taking a few deep breaths.  
  
" Too much for you, big man? Come on! Show me what you got." Crono taunted, a twisted grin on his face.  
  
"I've come for my wife and son. I don't want to kill you. Get out of my way." Cloud commanded. Crono shook his head, spinning his swords, expertly.  
  
"Sure. I'd be happy to let you join them." He said, laughing at himself as he continued to throw sword jabs and swipes into the air.  
  
He leads with his left…  
  
Cloud observed as Crono kept up the display, trying to antagonize him. Trying to act like the serious wound on his chest wasn't bothering him.  
  
Once again, Strife raised his sword. Crono snapped back into his fighting stance.  
  
"Get. Out. Of. The. Way." Cloud spelt it out. Crono raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Fucking make me, then."  
  
Cloud sent the blade screaming down at the kensai's left arm. He felt the somewhat sickening futile resistance of flesh versus steel, as he once again, severely penetrated the other's flesh. The katana went flying from Crono's grip, as his face paled and his mouth dropped open.  
  
"Aahhh!!" He screamed, blood spilling down his arm. Cloud paused again, momentarily.  
  
"Get out of here, you fucking idiot!" He shouted, swinging full force and slapping the other sword out of the redhead's weaker hand. Now both of his weapons lay on the floor, far below them. Crono retreated slowly, looking panicked. There wasn't much else he could do at this point.  
  
Now the kensai stood at the top of the stairs, his right hand clutching the bleeding gash on his left forearm. The soldier kept approaching.  
  
"What's it going to be, Crono? Don't be stupid, this time. Swallow your damn pride." Cloud's body and weapon radiated a luminous energy. Crono seemed to vacillate. His face went from hopeless to furious, back and forth, yet he took no action.  
  
"Even the strongest fighters know when to lay down their weapons." Cloud said, now standing next to him, somewhat proud of his opponent's decision to cease the fight. The Yakuza's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. His eyebrows rose, and then lowered. Then his eyes narrowed. That was when Cloud saw it.  
  
In the darkness of the stairwell, Crono's eyes…glowed.  
  
Just like Cloud Strife's.  
  
"Y…you…" Cloud stammered, feeling his skin crawl. He was in shock. Crono jammed his elbow into the same spot in the blonde's neck, and ran past. Cloud couldn't even feel it, as he watched Crono charge down the stairs, jumping down two or three at a time, and make a dash for his weapons.  
  
This has got to end…  
  
Cloud followed, a few seconds later, stopping in the middle of the staircase. Soon after, the kensai came running back at him, and he jumped up the first several steps, and pushed off the next one, somersaulting through the air, both swords wailing at Strife, who refocused his energy into the Ultima Weapon.  
  
...Now!  
  
He slashed; a white crescent zoomed from the sword, smashing straight into Crono as he whirled around. The kensai's knees buckled as he jerked back and upward into the most impressive flip Cloud had ever seen him execute. He soared through the air, end over end until at last, he slammed into the wall behind him, and slid down its clothed surface, into dull unconsciousness.  
  
Cloud stood, partly amazed by his handiwork, but mostly relieved that the battle was finally over. He hadn't fought that hard in years, but it felt somewhat satisfying to perform like he had, even though his muscles felt like gelatin.  
  
He turned away from his crumpled, motionless opponent, and headed back up to the second level.  
  
"Tifa!" He called out between panting gasps. "Where are you two?"  
  
"In here!" She called, through the thick central door. He came barreling toward it, splitting the wooden plank with ease. After that fight, a locked door was nothing. He stepped through.  
  
They were sitting in a large office, firmly tied at the hand and foot to the legs of the desk. An old corded phone hung off the edge of the tabletop near Tifa, and a great length of the similar rope lay in a spiral next to it. Cloud smiled, meagerly at their weary faces.  
  
"The cavalry has arrived." He knelt down beside her, and kissed her, holding it for a good while. He turned to his son, and ruffled his hair. "Nobody messes with us, kid." He grinned. His son was amazed.  
  
"You beat 'um, Dad? Really?"  
  
"You bet. Let's get you all out of this." He crudely but effectively cut the ropes from them. Then he stood up, taking the rest of the cord from the desk, and walking out with it. "Come on, let's get going." He said, and he headed down to Crono, who messily lay at the foot of the stairs. "You jackass. Why can't you just give up sometimes, dammit?" He cursed under his breath, while tying him up in several yards of cord, and taking his weapons from him. He wasn't going to take the risk of a similar occurrence happening again.  
  
Once Crono was secure, Cloud headed to the reception desk, and searched its contents. He was determined to find out what was going on, and why.  
  
Wait, all the information is probably computer-documented…  
  
He noted, looking down at the CPU.  
  
Probably should just take the stupid thing with me…  
  
He disconnected all the wires, unplugged the hard drive, and tucked it under his arm. He held the unit out to Tifa, whom was descending the staircase, gawking at Crono.  
  
"Carry this, honey? I've got bigger things to worry about." He said, handing it off, and pulling the large, limp body over his shoulder. They were out of there, seconds later.  
  
He felt kind of funny stuffing an unconscious body into the trunk of his car, but he had little other options. What was he supposed to do, put the guy that was trying to kill him minutes ago in the back seat with his son?  
  
He said little to the others, as he was deep in thought, driving back home. His mind was racing, wondering about all of the possibilities, some things finally making sense to him, a tiny fire in the distance, shedding light on the darkness of the situation.  
  
I have to find that woman…the violet-haired woman…she might be the only one that can help me…  
  
THE END  
  
Part Eighteen 


	19. Revalation

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector Seven, 0005 N.C.E.  
  
He groaned in discomfort as he shook himself awake, his head banging against some hard object behind him. Struggling to get up, it became apparent that his limbs had been fastened together by several lengths of silk cord.  
  
The same rope we used on them…how ironic…  
  
He recognized the area he was detained in after a brief once-over. Just last night, he and the other squad members staked out this house and proceeded to take down (or so they thought) Cloud Strife and capture his family as clout against the other members of a possible resistance.  
  
He still wasn't sure how Cloud survived the assault, returning to fight him at City Hall. He'd fired at him with a submachine gun along with squad mate Zeta, and ceased fire only after his bloody remains lay on the basement floor.  
  
1 Dammit…it was so flawless…I had him…I so had him down…wait…  
  
He froze, listening. He could hear voices drifting down through the climate control vent above his head.  
  
"I'm telling you I saw it with my own damn glowing eyes. He's gotten some degree of Mako exposure or cell treatment or something. No one's eyes glow like that unless they've been tampered with. End of story."  
  
Then another spoke up…his deep subconscious recognized her voice, but his clouded conscious mind did not.  
  
"I can't find anything under Jenova or Jenova Project or Mako therapy or anything. It's just not on this system. And I can find anything, I might add, if it's there to be found."  
  
2 Who is that…?  
  
"Damn…" He dropped his head down. His amnesia was gradually healing, but there were still major gaps in his memory. The therapy and treatment could only help him so much. That was mostly to get him to remember how to use firearms and other such weapons. And the headaches…they were unforgiving.  
  
3 Why can't I remember…?  
  
He wondered. The only things he remembered now were what the master and his teammates had told him. It was relatively simple though, easy to remember. He was a member of the team, and the team had goals. It was up to him and his teammates to achieve those goals, for it was his chosen path in life. It was his duty. He was the Yakuza, the loyal soldier of his elite brethren and the servant of his great lord. There were no questions asked, there were no discrepancies. It was his job to live up to the honor of the clan, scrambled memory or not.  
  
"I can't believe Crono isn't on record! He was in the god damned building when I got there, sitting in the computer chair! If not filing records is some new way of keeping track of company employees, then why didn't I get a memo? How about Yuffie Kisaragi then. Look for her." He could hear Cloud pacing back and forth above him, the sound very faint, but distinguishable.  
  
4 Those names…Crono…I'm Crono? No…Epsilon…I am Epsilon…but Yuffie?  
  
The name rang a bell in the back of his mind. He couldn't put his finger on it…he just knew it existed.  
  
5 Yuffie…do I know her? Does she know me? Who…who is Yuffie?  
  
He closed his eyes, images and senses flashing through his mind…  
  
Music…so loud…and so many people…  
  
A smile…so warm yet so chilling…  
  
A touch…feather light but so deep…  
  
Innocence…a feeling so far forgotten…  
  
Loss…heartache…  
  
Mystery…passion so wild…deception…  
  
Emptiness…cold, black, and dead…  
  
He opened his eyes, his body shaking slightly. Her name unleashed an avalanche of emotions, all toppling down upon him. He didn't understand. He understood nothing. He felt used, like such a pawn, like such a replaceable number, it scared him. He wanted to run…get out…just get out of here…but there was nowhere to run.  
  
He was lost.  
  
  
  
Cloud paced around his office behind Lucca, who sat in the computer chair, doing her best to work with the system. She had a knack for machines and computers of any kind.  
  
"Try Sephiroth, try ShinRa, try Yakuza, try anything! There has to be a clue somewhere on this whole stupid computer, otherwise they have it sitting around for nothing!" She took her glasses off and put them down on the table.  
  
"Sephiroth, no…ShinRa…yes…but nothing important…Yakuza…no. We've been through this already, Cloud." The blonde almost shouted.  
  
"I know. I've been here the whole time! You just have to keep looking…" He was beginning to get frantic. Tifa was trying her best to calm him down.  
  
"Ease up there. We'll find them. Just have some patience and a little faith." She said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "After what you went through yesterday, this all will be cake." He sighed, touching one of her wrists.  
  
"All right…thanks Teef." He would have kissed her, but heavy footsteps entered the room.  
  
"You've got to be looking under the wrong names. They must have pseudonyms or code names or something. They aren't stupid after all." The ice-haired mage announced, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the open door.  
  
"Yeah, but how are we supposed to figure those out? They could be anything for all we know." Magus shrugged.  
  
"That's your job." He stood up and left the room again, Lucca turning back to her work. She'd stopped to smile at him, but he'd failed to notice.  
  
"They don't look at all the way they used to. I mean, you can tell that they're who they are if you're looking for it, but otherwise, they look so weird. Their faces have no expressions really, they just look all serious, their skin is colorless, Crono's hair is chopped and Yuffie's is down to her shoulders now…they don't seem like the kids they were anymore, you understand what I'm trying to say? They look all solemn and…like…dead. They don't even act like they care about each other, or even know each other. The little time I saw them before they threw us in the room where I made the call from…"  
  
"Dialing with your nose…" Cloud said with a small smile. He tried to break up the nerve-racking situation with a little humor. She put a little pressure on his neck, where Crono had dealt him some severe blows. "Aaah! That hurts!"  
  
"Hey, you try making a phone call while tied to a desk. Anyway, they seemed like they were avoiding any communication between each other. It was so weird. They're like totally different people now." She remarked. Cloud pondered her statement. The situation was becoming increasingly stranger.  
  
My name is Epsilon, and you are the oppressors! It is my duty, my giri to destroy you!  
  
"Wait…he called himself Epsilon at one point…he seemed to think that he wasn't Crono anymore. Try looking up the word Epsilon."  
  
Her fingers raced over the keyboard, the CPU clicking and whirring as it processed her search. Within a minute, the search had produced its results. There was exactly one file, entitled "TradeStar Security Force."  
  
"TradeStar Security Force. Does that ring any bells? It says the document contains the word Epsilon." Cloud scratched his head.  
  
"…Can't say it does. Try it anyway." She clicked on it, bringing up a text document.  
  
"TradeStar's elite security team is comprised of four agents: squad leader Epsilon, and squad mates Zeta, Chi, and Xi. They were employed two days after the formation of TradeStar back in November, '04, and have been on active duty ever since…okay…does this sound like them?" Lucca paused reading aloud,  
  
"Those are all ancient numerals…they have to be code names. I think we've found our answer. Look up TradeStar, see what that's all about." Cloud instructed. She entered another search. A few documents popped up this time.  
  
"Formed in on November eighteenth, year four, New Common Era. The company is a recent rising stockholder and insurance trust. President Kipling has used some federal funding to insure his troops and armaments, due to the company's high integrity status…" She scrolled down through it, reading bits and pieces of the like. Cloud interrupted her.  
  
"Try to find out some key employees…maybe some company higher ups or the president. Find something that will give us a specific person to talk to." She cast him a sidelong look.  
  
"Right. I'll just press Control-F and type 'important guys'. Hold your horses, you." Tifa chuckled at her response. The scientist spent a few more moments looking through the documents. "Alright, I think I've found the company president."  
  
"Who?" the couple asked. They closed around the chair to see the screen.  
  
"Says it's a young guy named Alexander Gainsborough. Says here he's only nineteen! Imagine that…nineteen and in charge of a huge company like that…guys? Hello?" She looked up at them. They were both standing, staring blankly at the screen. "Guys, what's wrong? Do you know him?"  
  
"…Cloud…do you think…?" Tifa said, shakily, her face paling. Cloud shook his head furiously.  
  
"No. It's a coincidence Tifa. That's all. Lucca, let me use this." She was puzzled, but didn't argue. He had a very detached but dead serious tone in his voice. She stepped out of the way as he sat down in the chair, reading the words for himself. "That doctor…her father, he must have had relatives. That or it's just a coincidence…just a coincidence." He said to no one in particular, closing out of the programs and brining up his Internet connection. Lucca spoke up, baffled.  
  
"What's going on here?" She asked. Tifa looked at her, hopelessly. No response came. Cloud was typing frantically into a search engine. The results popped up for "Alexander Gainsborough." The main link was the TradeStar company website, which was already beginning to load onto the computer.  
  
The footsteps returned into the room again, the wizard deciding to take another look at their progress.  
  
"Anything?" he mouthed to Lucca. She shrugged, and pointed to the monitor that the Strifes were gathered around. Magus cringed a bit. He didn't like computers or technology much, yet he still took a look from his high vantage point over their shoulders.  
  
"Staff and services…Alexander Gainsborough…this has to be it." The blonde said, solemnly. He clicked the link. A picture began to download. Halfway through the delivery, Tifa covered her open mouth with her hand.  
  
"Oh…god…" She whispered.  
  
"What? You know him?" Lucca questioned, still lost. Tifa stood up, screaming.  
  
"He…he looks like Sephiroth!!!"  
  
"That's Sephiroth?! That's the guy we blew sky high at the warehouse?" The purple-haired girl exclaimed.  
  
"Shut up! Everyone, just shut up!" Cloud shouted slamming his hands down on the desk. The room was silent. He began scrolling down the page, revealing another picture. Underneath it was the caption "Elianor Gainsborough, chief financial advisor." Chills ran down Cloud's spine.  
  
They don't just look like Sephiroth…  
  
It read that he was the eighteen-year-old brother of the company president.  
  
They look like…her as well…  
  
Could it be?  
  
No way…no…no way…  
  
Even Magus looked disturbed by the pictures. He raised his eyebrows, then lowered them, and then appeared almost sickened. With a hand on his forehead, he abruptly left the room.  
  
"Magus? Magus! Wait…what's…ugh…" Lucca was tired of being left on the outside. She went after him, leaving Cloud and Tifa silent in the room, alone.  
  
  
  
She found him standing out on the couple's balcony, resting his head on his hand against the railing. He looked truly troubled, confused…almost as much as she was.  
  
"This…this is a real mess. I have no clue what's going on in there either. Don't feel bad." She said, walking quietly toward him. He didn't acknowledge her statement, really.  
  
"I had a strange feeling from their faces…I can't explain it." She came up next to him, leaning on the rail. The March night air outside was chilly, spring not yet taking into effect. She tried to cheer him up.  
  
"Heh, it's okay. I thought that Alexander guy was cute too, don't feel bad." He didn't laugh. Again, he seemed to almost talk through her.  
  
"It was like a summoning…like a beckoning…but, not from him. No, not from him. From someone above him…beyond his face…"  
  
"I don't understand…" She said softly, almost a whisper.  
  
"Neither do I. It's like pain and despair…coming through him, not from him…but almost vicariously…it's so frustrating. I can't explain it, Lucca." She put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Well…just give it some time…we'll figure it out, whatever it is…" He shrugged away.  
  
"No, there's no time to wait. Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I can't just wait around." He pulled his cloak across his body and faded out of sight, as he was often wont to do. She sighed. He had always been mysterious, quirky…but lately he'd been so distant.  
  
Almost…cold…  
  
  
  
He had to get out of here. He was a rat in a cage. The harder he struggled to tear the cords, the tighter they seemed to fasten him to the load-bearing support he was secured to.  
  
Think…goddammit…think!  
  
He could feel the several knots at the top of his forearms, but only if he mashed his other arm behind his back to reach them. Trying to untie them would be futile. He fought even harder, the need to get free almost…electrical…  
  
Electrical…  
  
He focused on the center of energy in his body, the solar plexus. He gradually brought his power up through his midsection, out at the shoulders, and then into his fingertips. He smelled the ropes burning under the current. Seconds later, he ripped free of the charred cord, and dropped down off the post, seizing his bound ankles as he fell. Lightening roared into them as well, as he kicked himself free, stretching out his cramped limbs. He saw the bullet-spattered window, and his first instinct was to break through it and run…but…  
  
No…I won't run away from them. I won't let them think they can take my weapons and throw me in the basement like this…they will pay…they already know too much…  
  
He stood up to run for the window, but his left arm and chest burned in agony, worse than the rest of his body. Drops of blood dripped through the still-somewhat fresh wounds.  
  
"Shit…" Epsilon muttered, pressing down on the cuts with his hands. He searched around the basement for something to bind his wounds with. The only thing he could find was a roll of thick gray tape.  
  
This will have to do…  
  
He placed several strips over his scarred chest, and wrapped his left arm up securely, to prevent the injury from tearing any further. Removing the tape would be extremely painful, but it would be something he would have to bear.  
  
He put the tape down, and went for the window. Most of the glass was loose and cracked. A great deal of it pushed free with a little pressure. The rest he used the handle of a mop to crack off. Once the jagged shards were gone, he pulled himself up through the relatively small basement window.  
  
Outside he pressed flat up against the front of the house, his black clothes standing out a bit against the white mansion wall. Cross-stepping over to the rain gutter, he grasped it up high with his fingers, and clamped his knees and feet around it, shimmying up the piping. It was about a thirty-foot climb to the roof, but the ringed support braces made the scaling remarkably easier, almost as if it were a simple ladder.  
  
Walking across the gritted shingles, he searched the perimeter of the house for anyone who might be able to see him from his position. He almost ruled that possibility out, until he saw someone standing out on the balcony on the second floor. She was looking out over the railing, at the large property the Strifes possessed.  
  
Eliminate every possible threat in your path. Take no chances.  
  
The instructions of the master replayed in his mind. He had to fulfill his objectives. He would not fail this mission.  
  
Careful not to lose his balance, he crossed the peak of the roof, and walked down to the edge above her. There was only dim light from the inside of the house around her. Maybe she wouldn't even see him if he were right next to her…  
  
She was less than ten feet below him, a safe fall. He swooped down.  
  
"Mmmph!!" She burst out, Epsilon's knees crashing into the small of her back as she dropped. He shoved his hand in front of her mouth, preventing further outcry. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear.  
  
"Where are my weapons?" Her eyes wide, she flailed and fought to get up, but he had her pinned. Looking her over, he found an odd handgun strapped to her hip. It was enough of a weapon to scare her with.  
  
"Tell me where they are. And don't scream. I'll kill you." He whispered again, putting the gun against her head. She still didn't respond to him. He pushed the barrel against her skull harder, jumping slightly in shock as her hand grabbed his leg, and a jet of red-hot flame spat into his skin. He cried out, and reflexively pulled the trigger. A loud energy release was heard, and her head jerked to the side, her body rolling with it.  
  
Epsilon stood up, uneasily. There was no visible damage from the shot, but she was definitely hurt, maybe dead, lying unmoving on the balcony deck. He could hear people in the house now, coming down to investigate the loud noises of only seconds ago. He spun around, stepping out of direct sight, and holding the gun on the doorway. Moments later, Cloud emerged, looking around. Epsilon trained the weapon on him.  
  
"Freeze." He commanded. Cloud looked at him in disbelief, then down at the girl on the floor below. His eyes narrowed.  
  
"Put the gun down, Crono. You're not Epsilon. You're not the squad leader of anything. It's all a mistake, just put the damn gun down and let me talk to you." He said, smoothly. The redhead gave the gun a jerk.  
  
"Where have you put my swords?" He demanded. Cloud held his hands out, revealing a lack of a weapon.  
  
"Listen, Crono, just calm down. You'll have them in no time, just stop and think for a minute, all right?"  
  
"Fine. I don't need them to kill you, anyway." He fired three blasts at the soldier, hitting him in the upper chest and stomach. Cloud's knees gave out and he fell back, dazed. He tried to fight off the shocking effect of the energy.  
  
"…Just…stop being a fool, dammit!" He shouted at Epsilon. "You're not under your own control!" He propped his back up on his hands, looking up at his attacker. Epsilon refocused the weapon, ready to let him have another, yet someone else came bursting out of the open doorway, arms swinging wildly.  
  
A fist connected harshly with the Yakuza's face, reeling him backward. He looked up, putting a guard hand up desperately. To his surprise, it was Cloud's wife, Tifa, who was up in his face now. She stepped forward again, with cold, no-nonsense eyes, and with a scything motion, kicked the firearm clear out of Epsilon's hand. The metal weapon went skittering down under the umbrella table in the corner of the balcony. She halted for a moment, her fists still up. Her sudden show of skill stunned him.  
  
"Give it up, Crono. You're only hurting yourself, now." He wasn't sure if he could take her without a weapon. He backed away from her, until he felt the rail bump his elbow. Making a grab for the gun would be risky. She'd have all the time in the world to kick him clear off the balcony, resulting in a very painful drop down the side of the hill.  
  
I am not afraid of you…  
  
Her red-brown eyes seemed to blare.  
  
Get in my way and you'll go down…  
  
His bright green gems hissed at her.  
  
Don't be so sure…  
  
She brushed her loose hair off her shoulders. He sneered and hopped backwards onto the railing, rising up, almost in and attempt to show off his fine balance. Epsilon's fists flashed out, loosening his muscles. His grin shone in the dim moonlight.  
  
Come and get me…  
  
"Tifa…don't…" Cloud muttered, trying to get up. She didn't look back at him.  
  
"Cloud, you're hurt. Don't move. I'll handle him." The soldier shook his head, and grunted, rising up on one knee.  
  
"You couldn't handle me. You couldn't handle shit." Epsilon taunted. "You're nothing without your big weapons and your Materia and all that other bullshit you cowards hide behind. Go ahead. Show me what you're both really made of." Tifa laughed at him, almost mockingly.  
  
"Cowards? Who uses terrorist tactics to take a family hostage? Us? I don't think so. Who ambushes a defenseless man in his home with a fucking machine gun? Who shoots an innocent girl, his childhood friend with her back turned? Us? I don't think so, Crono. You're not anyone's hero."  
  
He was speechless. Words seemed to reach his mouth, but die and fall away before any of them were articulated. She stepped closer to him.  
  
"What are you trying to do? Who are you fighting for? The TradeStar Security force? You fight for your code names and false identities and miserable lives? What happened to us, Crono? We're your friends. We're on the same side. It's us versus them, Crono. Us includes you." She said to him, softly. Cloud joined in.  
  
"It's what I've been trying to tell you. You've been taken advantage of. Someone is using you. They're using you like a puppet. Just like they used me. Don't fall for it, Crono. You're a smart guy. You're too good for them. Yuffie's too good for them too. You might think they care about you, you might feel like you belong, but you're nothing to them. All they care about is squeezing every last bit of usage out of you, then they'll toss you aside. They won't want anything to do with you. I know this Crono, this is the truth. We understand you. We are your allies. I only fought you and brought you here because it was for your own good. We might not be the best of friends, but we have to stick together or else we fall apart. Just like you said before." The Yakuza's arms lowered, fists loosening, letting the cool breeze touch his palms. His shoulders rose, then sank.  
  
"You're right…I'm not a hero…I'm a…a failure…" He whispered, looking at the floor. He felt a hand touch his shin below him.  
  
"Don't talk like that, you big dope. Just don't do anything stupid like that again." It was the girl…Lucca…he knew her…she was up, the shock wearing off.  
  
"I'm…sorry I hurt you…all of you…Cloud…I guess you win. I can't beat you. I'll never be as good as you…"  
  
"Don't say that, Crono. You've got a lot going for you. Just come on inside. You need some help and some rest. We'll work it out later. Just promise you won't flip out again, 'cause if you do, it's the basement for you, punk." He joked, pushing his shoulder. Crono shook his head.  
  
"No. I can't stay with you. I can't ask you to trust me. I can't be…here…like this…I don't belong here. I can't help you; all I can do is hurt…"  
  
"Damn it, get off the rail and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We need you Crono. We all do." The redhead laughed, sadly.  
  
"No you don't…no one needs me…" He turned his back on them, and jumped off the rail, arms spread. It was almost like he was flying, a sore smile in his heart. For a moment he was at peace, the breeze in his ears and face; he couldn't hear them shouting at him from above. The dull pain he felt when his legs touched down didn't matter. He stumbled at bit, but kept running. He sprinted through their backyard, past the gardens and picnic table, past the pond, through the trees.  
  
I don't need anyone either…  
  
It felt good to run. His legs cycled, his arms pumped, and his heart raced in strange euphoria. He had never been through these woods before, yet he didn't care. The quiet darkness felt like an old friend. He was underdressed for the rather low temperature, but his rapidly circulating blood more than compensated for that.  
  
He had no direction, he had no cares or worries. For the first time in a very, very long while, he was free. Free from the pressures of his honor, free from everyone who wanted to take advantage of him, free from the master and his mandates, free from everything that kept him tossing and turning at night. In one swift leap he had taken everything that plagued him, and thrown it all into the wind, and he felt no regrets. None.  
  
It was time to start over, with or without the rest of the world.  
  
THE END  
  
Part Nineteen 


	20. Loss Of Innocence

ADVERSARY  
  
ShinRa Mansion, Nibelheim, 05 N.C.E.  
  
Her hair swayed all around her as she hovered in the seemingly empty space. Her skin glowed a light green in the soft light from above. She looked just like an angel dazing in the heavens.  
  
How ironic.  
  
He wasn't sure if she was aware of his presence. Anyone who had ever experienced prolonged stasis always recalled it as "long night of poor sleep," with lots of half-conscious dazing. At best they remembered blurry images and faint, muddled sounds. His hand reached out and rested itself on the thick glass between them.  
  
He couldn't think of much else to do but stare at her, an occasional pang of guilt pricking him in the spine.  
  
It was for your own good.there was no other way.  
  
But still, he felt ill inside. Something wasn't right about what had happened. Something still plagued him, even in the aftermath of it all.  
  
She wasn't supposed to fall in love with me.  
  
He couldn't understand it. How could she? He was evil. He was a monster. He was the complete opposite of anything in the universe that deserved love from anyone, even his children.  
  
And he didn't even care.  
  
Yet she loved. And she cared. And she stood by him to the last. It was only her nature. She loved the filthy old Midgar slums she grew up in. Gunshots and screams passed right by her ears, which instead were fixated upon the chirping birds in the church roof. Poverty and starvation averted her eyes, which found joy in the flowers she managed to grow in the sunbeams.  
  
And she was happy. She loved everything and everyone.  
  
It made him sick. The world wholeheartedly disgusted him. So did oblivious people like her, that chose to ignore and forgive so blindly.  
  
"You need to understand something." He spoke, angry that her eyes were still shut. It was almost like she was ignoring him. "There is no love within me. I simply cannot give something I do not have. If you can't accept that, than I can't work with you, do you understand?" His voice rose. She was like a deaf child. Maybe she could hear him. Maybe she just didn't want to hear him. He looked away, still leaning on the glass.  
  
"I am a warrior.a general that leads armies.not a husband.not a father. This is about power, don't you understand? Power.we could have been the most unstoppable force.the closest thing to the Ancients.you just can't comprehend it. Of course you can't. It's against your nature. You're a loyal wife, a mother.you want a family. You want a husband that feels the same." he sighed.  
  
This was all a mistake.all of this.  
  
But he couldn't walk away now.  
  
"If you can't play your role, than you won't survive. Just like Crono, Aeris. Just like him. He's betrayed me, and now he must die. This is my story. I am the author. Anyone who doesn't comply is to be destroyed. And I mean anyone, Aeris." His words echoed off the metallic lab equipment.  
  
I'm wasting my time.  
  
He shook his head and turned away from the active stasis tube. It's not like the stupid mortal would understand him anyway. She was too stubborn.  
  
"Been eavesdropping? How very ninja of you." He faced the other capsule, across the room. The half-Wutaise girl was awake and staring at him hatefully. Her fists lightly clenched and loosened as she struggled to stay coherent within the tube. He slowly treaded toward her, a small mocking smile on his face.  
  
"You know, I just don't know why you throw such a fit. What do you have to be upset about? I've given you everything. I've turned you from a skinny brat into a real woman. I've put you with the man you want to be with. I've made you more powerful than you ever could have dreamed of becoming on your own stupid terms, and still you spite me. You treacherous little girl." He taunted her. She pounded her fist against the glass as hard as she could, which, in her condition, came out as somewhat of a light slap.  
  
"I guess you and he are meant for each other, you being the daughter of a traitor, and him being a traitor himself, after all." He watched her burn with fury. He could tap into every recess of her mind. There wasn't any secret she could hide from him now that those cells had been implanted in her. He knew all about her father's out-of-wedlock affair with a Journalist from Midgar that left him with an illegitimate interracial daughter. He knew about all her fears, all her hopes, and he knew exactly how to manipulate them.  
  
"So.the question now is, when does the hero arrive? Do you think he really cares about you that much? Is he willing to die for you, Yuffie? Or should I say, Xi? That's right Xi, Yuffie doesn't exist anymore. Just like her father.and it's a shame, because she would have taken his place. She was supposed to rule over the entire Wutai continent with her beloved Kensai.too bad they had to go and betray me. Too bad."  
  
He turned his back on them, and stormed out of the room, laughing to himself. It suddenly occurred to him that it didn't matter if Aeris accepted the fact that he'd set her up all along. There was nothing she or anyone else could do to stop him. His plan was going to work this time, with or without anyone else.  
  
He waited in the circular dining area, his long gray coat folded over his arm. The mansion gave him the willies. It reminded him all too much of his gloomy childhood days living in shadows. Whistling a few random notes, he paced around the room as he waited for his father to come up from the basement.  
  
Not father.more of a commanding officer.  
  
He chuckled, sadly. There was no one else to feel bad for him, so he had to do it himself. After a short while he heard thick footsteps coming up through the floorboards. The hidden wall area opened and the colossal man emerged.  
  
"Are you ready to leave?" He asked, barely looking over at his son.  
  
"Oh, I was born ready." Alex answered with a stupid grin. Sephiroth didn't seem to notice.  
  
"So then everything in Midgar is ready? You've taken care of everything?"  
  
"Yeah, I've been a busy guy. Plotting and all that stuff."  
  
"You're not supposed to be plotting, you're supposed to do what I tell you." Sephiroth said, tersely.  
  
"Well, I mean." Alex stammered, nervously.  
  
"Never mind. Elianor is doing things accordingly in Guardia?"  
  
"Yes, he's been holding up there pretty well, too. I guess he's about ready for the final stage as well."  
  
"Good, don't delay any longer than. Get to it."  
  
"Alright, then." Alex sighed, walking away, and turning back. "Goodbye." He said. Sephiroth stared back at him.  
  
"What are you waiting for?" he asked, irritated. Alex frowned, and turned away, leaving.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
He walked up the last of the several tricky flights of stairs leading up though Mount Nibel. As the reactor and the plateau came into view, he heard the faint sound of low helicopter rotors spinning slowly. The security agent called Zeta was waiting outside the aircraft, along with his brother. Neither of them seemed to be talking much, which was understandable. They weren't particularly talkative individuals.  
  
"Hey Ellie, hey Mia. Oh, I mean Zeta." He said, pretending to slip. She looked at him with wide eyes. He smiled. "Didja forget your real name already, Mia Kamachi? Oh, good. Looks like you remember." She was speechless. Elianor grabbed his arm.  
  
"What are you doing? You're not supposed to."  
  
"She's a person, 'El. She's got a right to her own name."  
  
"Father will be upset."  
  
"Father doesn't fucking have to know, alright? This is a lady here, she deserves a little respect now and then, I don't care who says otherwise." He walked past him, and stepped up into the helicopter. Mia followed close behind him, taking the controls and pushing the throttle up. Alex looked back down at his brother, still standing on the ground.  
  
"You coming any time soon?" He grumbled and climbed up the step and sat across the back seat. Alex slid the heavy door of the scout chopper closed behind him. Mia raised the throttle again, released the brake, and kept the rudder steady as the craft lifted straight up off the ground.  
  
It was on to Midgar.  
  
She focused as she slowly killed the engine speed, bringing the chopper down onto the landing pad on top of the former ShinRa building in Midgar. The craft shook as it touched down, and the rotors droned as they spun out the rest of their energy. Alex opened up the door once again, and let the chill air into the dry cabin.  
  
"Whoo.jeez, its chilly, eh?" he remarked. Mia nodded. She seemed a bit nervous and distant as she took his hand, helping her out of the helicopter. "Nervous?" He asked. She shrugged, uneasily. "Don't worry. He's an old corrupt bastard from ShinRa that escaped investigation. You'll do fine. I've seen you work before. Just stay cool and you'll do fine." He assured her. She nodded again, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. Behind her, Elianor closed the door again.  
  
"Hope this goes okay." he muttered.  
  
"Sure it will.just stay calm like us pros and you'll fit right in." Alex smirked.  
  
"Hello there! You the folks from the insurance company?" An aging man with sparse gray hair and thick glasses walked toward them from the office. He wore a somewhat drab brown business suit and had a gold pocket watch chain hanging out of his jacket. Alex stepped forth and extended his hand.  
  
"Yes indeed, Mr. President, that'd be us. Allow me to introduce our little party. I am the company president, Alexander Gainsborough. This is my brother Elianor, he's our chief financial advisor. And this lovely young lady is one of our elite security agents. Off duty they fly helicopters and stuff. You know, secret service and all." He rambled as the President shook the hands of all three individuals.  
  
"My, it's amazing how young an age you fine people are starting your careers at. Makes an old man proud to see such am."  
  
"Ambition! Yes, we get that a lot. I guess we just did a bit of planning and got a head start. Most of our friends are still waiting tables at the pizza parlor." Alex added with a laugh. "I guess since we all were just young teenagers during the war, the victory and the way the new government has turned this city around for the better.we really got a sense of hope." He said with the sweeping motion of his arm out toward the skyline. That was the signal.  
  
"Well, yes, we are extremely proud of what we've been able to do with our fine city. In just a matter of four years we've turned it from a slum into a-" his speech cut of as Elianor grabbed him from behind in a chokehold. Dumbfounded, the old man futilely struggled with the stronger youth as he was forced into the open, facing the young woman.  
  
He watched, suffocating, as the woman drew a stout gun from her boot. His eyes widened in terror, her hands quickly loading a syringe-type dart into the barrel, and cocked the weapon. In one swift motion she aimed the gun, and fired, the long dart buried itself a few inches into the man's chest.  
  
Thirty seconds later, President Kipling was unconscious. Lethal jade poison had found it's way to his brain, causing it to stop functioning. In a matter of an hour or so, his heart would cease to beat entirely. The three left standing rushed his body over into the helicopter, strapping it into the back seat. Alex stopped to grab the dying man's pocket watch, attaching it to his own coat. The other two looked at him oddly. He shrugged.  
  
"No sense wasting a perfectly good watch. Ellie, you ready to do your thing?" His brother nodded, producing a yellow Materia gem from his belt and inserting it into the bracer on his wrist. Mia stared down at the familiar item.  
  
It's the one Epsilon stole.I knew it was for something important.  
  
The brown-haired brother outstretched his arms in a parallel, and closed his eyes, entering a trance as the green light began to illuminate the area around him.  
  
Then he changed.  
  
He shrank a little bit in height, and expanded quite a lot in width. The facial and physical transformations were hard to make out in the bright glow, but the light soon faded. In Elianor's place stood an exact replica of the President. He looked down at himself in disdain.  
  
"I feel really, really stupid." Elianor said through the President's voice. Alex smiled, patting him on the back.  
  
"Ahh, you look better already. The bald spot is totally you, bro."  
  
"Whatever.what do I do know?"  
  
"Well, the you were scheduled to meet with TradeStar representatives for about a half hour today. So.what say we go into your office and chat, Mr. President? Mia, you want to go back to the helicopter?" He offered. She was beginning to look sick, and readily agreed to leave the situation. The two brothers went back into the office, and sat down across the large desk.  
  
"Damn, what an office." Alex marveled at the broad open space and the huge windowed north wall that led out to the balcony and roof. Red carpet covered the elevated section of the office, baring the white tile floor as the steps led down to the bar and rest area and the elevator. Soft gold lights lit the room, along with the milky moonlight from the window.  
  
"So after like twenty more minutes you leave in the helicopter and then I just do whatever it says I was scheduled to do today?"  
  
"Yeah. It's probably all in a personal planner in the desk or something. Yeah, that looks like it, the green marble one with the pen in it. Hell, you think the President could afford nicer pens."  
  
"This body is really uncomfortable. I'm not supposed to feel like this for another seventy years." Elianor grumbled, fidgeting with his suit.  
  
"Hey, look on the bright side. At least there's no ninety-year-old First Lady you have to sleep with tonight. That would really suck." Alex grinned. Elianor chuckled slightly, shuddering.  
  
"Okay, you're right. That would be horrible.but this still blows."  
  
"It could always blow harder, remember that."  
  
A while later Alex left the office through the glass doors on the balcony. The lights in the helicopter were off. Somewhat puzzled, he walked across the rooftop toward the aircraft.  
  
Wonder what Mia's doing in there.  
  
He moved up right next to it. It was pitch dark inside, no noise coming from it either. If she was awake, she was pretending not to see him, because he was rather obvious in the moonlight.  
  
Stepping up onto the entryway, he grabbed the handle, and slid the door wide open, looking in.  
  
All the seats were empty. Mia and the president were gone.  
  
What?!  
  
He jumped into the helicopter, lunging over the seat to see if maybe for some reason they were in the cargo area, but he stopped. His foot kicked something soft on the floor.  
  
Mia.  
  
She was under the control board, curled up into a ball, almost invisible. He shakily reached his hand down, touching her back, seeing if she was conscious. He whispered her name. There was no response.  
  
Mia.  
  
His hands took hold of the soft wire mesh bodysuit she wore, and he carefully slid her out of the small compartment she'd seemingly been jammed into. With a light sigh she unfolded, her arms dropping down to her sides, her legs sliding out from underneath her. He was somewhat relieved. She didn't seem to be badly hurt, just unconscious.  
  
Laying her full out on the rooftop outside, he could hear her slow, strained breaths. Like an injured animal struggling to stay alive.  
  
  
  
Something has to be wrong.what's happened to you.?  
  
In the moonlight he couldn't see any damage on her face, just an expression of one trapped in a nightmare. There were no tears in her bodysuit, and no visible contortions on her limbs. She still seemed hurt though, and she rolled back over onto her side, lazily crossing her arms over her abdomen.  
  
Maybe she's sick.internal injuries or something.  
  
Then it hit him. His stomach turned.  
  
Poison.  
  
"Oh, no."  
  
Was it too late? She wasn't dead yet, but could she be saved? What the hell was he supposed to do? Who would he go to? He was an assassin. A conspirator. No one would help him.no one could help him. There were no great healers in this world.  
  
No one but.  
  
His mother.  
  
No.no. I can't.  
  
He had to.  
  
He'd kill me.  
  
No doubt Sephiroth would destroy him if he found out Alex had taken his mother out of stasis. But.  
  
He dropped down to his knees. His eyes burned with light, colors and sound swirling through his mind.  
  
What's.happening!?  
  
"Aaaaggghh.rrmmm.oh.shit."  
  
He saw it. He saw it all. He saw Sephiroth walk from the shadows of the rooftop, peering in the window of the office and slinking past like it was no big deal. He saw him walk up to the helicopter, and he saw him throw open the door. He saw her whirl toward him in shock and open her mouth to yell something, but his hand grabbed her face and slammed her head back against the window, hopelessly stunning her.  
  
This can't be.  
  
He grabbed the needles from her belt and jabbed a handful of them into her back. And she screamed.  
  
Then she stopped.  
  
Her head dropped down, and she fell to the floor of the aircraft, where he brutally kicked her under the control board. The vision faded. Alex rose to his feet, shaking like a leaf. He looked down at the still girl, and out past the skyline, into the darkness.  
  
"Not if I fucking kill you first."  
  
THE END Part Twenty 


	21. One Step Too Far

ADVERSARY  
  
Nibelheim, 05 N.C.E.  
  
The ferry ride lasted for six days. Six long days and nights of panic attacks, depression, terrible cravings, and bouts of weakness. Almost an entire week stuck in a small, stale-aired room on a fishing boat, with no way to satisfy the intense burning within him that drove him this far. Now the waiting was finally over.  
  
He shook his thoughts clear and walked himself up the docks to the captain and his small crew. Upon noticing his presence, the captain greeted him with a jolly smile.  
  
"Hey, well look who's up and about! I was beginnin' to think yah fell through a porthole or somethin' of the like. How was the ride there, son?"  
  
"It was alright.thanks. Here." He said, with a strained voice as he paid the small stowaway fee. Without another word he stepped past the fishermen and onto the grass. The captain called after him.  
  
"You have a safe journey now, son! Hope you find what yer lookin' for."  
  
"Yeah.me too." He mused over his shoulder. Behind him the captain shook his head.  
  
"That boy doesn't look too healthy.wonder what he's up to."  
  
"Did'ja see his tattoos captain? He's one of those street fighters from the Far West."  
  
"He can't be up to any good then.what could he want?"  
  
He heard their words as he moved on. People were always talking, always gossiping behind his back. If they had something to say to him, why the hell couldn't they say it to his face? Isn't it enough that he paid them for something that cost them nothing? Why in heaven's name couldn't they mind their own business?  
  
He felt sick, very sick. Like he'd come down with a terrible case of influenza and hadn't eaten in days. He knew if he didn't get another treatment soon, he'd collapse.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
He didn't know his exact way around town, as he'd never been independently conscious and walking around freely during his treatments. It wasn't terribly hard to find the old mansion though. It was the biggest, shabbiest building in the quaint little city.  
  
Looks like no one's home.  
  
He cautiously walked through the opening in the gate, watching the windows as best he could for possible observation. It was clear. Stepping lightly up onto the creaky steps, he maneuvered his way to the front door, and slowly opened it, peering inside.  
  
The interior of the mansion was familiar to his eyes. It was the only place he was permitted to walk around in during the time he was undergoing the tests and injections. The loose, warped floorboards, the dust-covered chairs, the layers upon layers of spider webs hanging from every possible surface, it all came back to him in a flash. He looked down the floor, to the other end of the room by the stairs, the light shining through onto the dusty floor.  
  
Footprints.people still come in and out of here after all.  
  
He had to work quickly then, for someone might return at any minute. He locked all the deadbolts and chains on the front door to buy him some extra time and warning. After pausing once more to assure himself that he was alone in the house, he crept down the stairs, across the floor, and into the lit stairwell.  
  
He shuddered. Some of the footprints were huge. There was only one person they could have belonged to. The one person he hated more than anyone alive. The man who's very name filled him with rage.  
  
Damn you.  
  
Fists shaking, he stared down at the print. He'd run so far, and still, traces of the one who'd wrecked his life managed to find him. With a festering malice he planted his own foot down, and smeared the prints into the dust. It was a little relieving.  
  
In the room at the top of the stairs to the left was what he was looking for. He twisted the dial, recalling the numbers from memory.  
  
36.10.59.97.  
  
He wasn't supposed to know that number, but he was able to figure it out, catching looks over a careless Elianor's shoulder several times. The door swung open, with a metallic chunk, and a little dust sprayed into his face. Covering his nose and mouth with his shirt, he reached in, sorting through the metal containers on the inside. One red "Zeta", another "Chi", another "Xi", and another.  
  
Jackpot.  
  
He grabbed the canister labeled "Epsilon", and pulled it out from under the others. Tucking it under his arm, he gently shut the safe door, and rose up on his feet. He found what he'd come for.  
  
Setting the container down on the countertop, he began to unscrew the lid, holding his breath as the streams of green light came pouring out of the opening. The soft wavelengths soothed his tired eyes, and he craned his neck over the paint-can sized canister, gazing down into the warm light.  
  
Still here.all of it.  
  
All the mako he needed to complete his treatment was here. All seven dosage tubes, and the ten vials that refilled the tubes once they were empty. They must have expected to catch him and continue the slow, agonizing therapy, but he was too smart for them.  
  
They wanted to give him tiny doses at a time, partly because an over- concentration was potentially harmful, and partly to turn him into a helpless slave to the chemical, receiving it in tiny, tantalizing portions, each only containing enough to make him want more of the ultra-powerful high they produced.  
  
In the meantime, after several months of the treatment, his skills had been enhanced. He'd noticed an improvement in his vision (mainly the fact that he could see perfectly clear in dim light), his endurance, and his knowledge of combat arts. Whatever losses of memory he'd endured earlier in the year were replaced by new knowledge, directly fed into his brain through the injections. He'd learned all about the Ancients, and the horrible humans that stole their planet, and the goddess Jenova and the savior Sephiroth, sent to build an army to liberate the earth and put the humans back into their place.  
  
Oh, and how he'd hear a hundred times that Sephiroth overcame death and worse trials to return to reclaim his planet, and how he was building a small band of allies to wage war against the humans once again. He'd been nearly brainwashed into being honored as a soldier of salvation, one of the few destined to rule over the many. He'd nearly been eager to call himself a New Ancient, eager to accept Jenova's cells into his body, eager to follow the master, the savior into battle against the human demons.  
  
Bullshit.all of it.  
  
He'd been able to break away from it enough to get a hold on himself. If Sephiroth wanted to come marching through the city, destroying everything in his path, than he damn well could do as he pleased, but Crono wanted nothing to do with it.  
  
That, apparently, was unacceptable.  
  
So Sephiroth turned him into his little toy assassin. He'd taken a supposed man of honor from another world and made him into a hostage- taking, terrorist assassin, all to break him of his will. He'd played off his emotions and thoughts, and created a living hell, just to show Crono who was boss.  
  
And Crono hated him for it.  
  
True the ability to finally execute the exotic battle techniques he'd always dreamed of executing was a pleasant one, but he'd renounce that in a heartbeat if it meant going back to his old life. But now his old life has been destroyed. Crono the Kensai was now Epsilon the Assassin. The boy who'd cared enough to risk his life to save the lives of those around him, was now a bitter man who cared about no one but himself. His honor was gone. His pride was gone. His very identity was no more.  
  
But now he had the mako. And now he was a trained fighter, no longer working off instinct and whim. They could take his old friends, his blades, anything they wanted, and he didn't care anymore. It just didn't matter.  
  
Extending his arm to reveal the small metal socket in the inside of his elbow, he picked up one of the dosage tubes and twisted it into place in the hole. His thumb pressed down on the syringe as he closed his eyes, the cool feeling of the energy flowing up through his arm. He was an utter fool to think he could run away from this. He needed this.  
  
He smiled as the syringe gave it's warning click that he'd hit the two- thirds mark on the tube. This was where he was supposed to stop the injection, rest for three hours, and then take another third, and repeat the process every day for three days.  
  
Fuck that.  
  
He continued pushing, the liquid flowing through his chest and down the rest of his body. Once he it the bottom of the tube he really started to felt it. And it felt good. He removed the tube, putting it back into the container, and reached for another one, but paused.  
  
Why not?  
  
The ten refill canisters were very large compared to the tubes. Each was about the size of a drinking glass, each dosage tube was around the size of a thermometer, a miniscule amount to say the least. Shakily, he grabbed one of the refills, and opened it up. It had a similar nozzle that could connect to his arm, but was obviously meant for the tubes. He changed the meaning to suit his needs.  
  
Fully knowing it might be the last thing he would ever do, and without a trace of hesitation, he pushed down on the release, slowly squeezing the start of an unearthly amount of mako into his body. If he was going to die, he might was well die happy.  
  
It numbed his mind. He felt it in his whole body now, coursing up and down through every limb.  
  
"Oh man.holy shit." He said through his teeth, yet he kept injecting. His eyes were filled with a horribly bright light, his head pounding with pressure. He knew he should stop. He knew he never should have started. He also knew it was too late regardless. He finished the entire glass vial, and could not feel a thing. He wasn't sure if he was still even standing. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he'd been dying this whole time.  
  
No, not quite.not yet.  
  
He could still feel with his hands a bit. In fact, his sense of touch had become so hypersensitive that it was hard for his mind to receive it. He desperately tried to unwind the vial from his arm, and began loosely turning it to the left, unaware when he'd finally loosened it enough. He knocked it clear off his arm. It hit the floor with a crash that rang out against the mansion walls.  
  
"Shit." he whispered, unsure of what to do. He was reeling back and forth on his feet, thoughts in a jumble. He thought of Chi, popping the drugs he was addicted to into his mouth, bouncing around like an idiot. Then he began to laugh. He was just like Chi, just as pathetic. Just as hilariously sad.  
  
He pounded his hands down on the counter, still laughing his head off. It was all so funny. So damn stupid, so damn ironic. Crono, the great hero of his day, breaking into a mansion and overdosing on a chemical harvested from the planet.  
  
He stopped laughing.  
  
There were footsteps coming up from the basement. Someone was home, and they had heard his racket. The noises got louder as the people got closer to the basement door. Crono panicked.  
  
He ran, avoiding the light by the stairs, wobbling on his shaky legs, though the mansion, dodging furniture and leaping up the front steps to the door, grabbing for the handle, and.  
  
The door was locked. Seven deadbolts and a chain were set up tight on the door. All his own doing.  
  
Irony, again.  
  
He thought, reaching up pointlessly to undo the securities before whoever it was coming up could reach him. As he went to open the second lock, he heard the basement door slide open. What happened next he couldn't explain.  
  
Lunatic Calm - Leave You Far Behind  
  
He turned around, normal speed, and saw a man standing in the hidden doorway to the underground chamber. He was holding a heavy submachine gun at his waist, and he stared at Crono in disbelief. It was Chi. His old squad mate. Crono tried to call out to him, but no words came out of his mouth. He couldn't speak. His full attention became fixed upon the slow raising of the weapon toward him.  
  
Crono's eyes widened and he dove forward, down out of the foyer, under bullets that whizzed by his head. Curving his neck under, he hit the ground with his shoulders, and rolled up onto his feet. His arms whipped around threateningly as he took a fighting stance, glaring at Chi, feeling the biggest adrenaline rush he'd ever felt in his entire life hit him. His vision cleared, his mind instantly snapped into focus, and he felt as if every technique in the world lay at his fingertips.mainly because it was true.  
  
Chi seemed to be moving like a slug, his facial expressions changing slowly, his movements dragging and predictable. He reaimed the gun at Crono, and pulled the trigger. The redheaded fighter could see every movement coming. His legs flung him to the side, as he heard the weapon blazing at him.  
  
Pop.pop.pop.pop.pop.  
  
That's all each bullet was now, an insignificant pop. He saw the projectiles slide past him as he touched down on the floor with his hands. They slammed into the floor and splintered the wood in various directions. When Crono had landed on his feet, he still saw Chi shooting at where he had been what seemed like seconds ago.  
  
The hell is he moving so slow for.is he trying to kill me..?  
  
The thoughts faded as Chi's shots neared him. Tightening his stomach, Crono jumped up, soaring through the air. Chi was oblivious. Then it hit him.  
  
Maybe he's not moving slow.  
  
He started to descend, Chi only starting to look up at him.  
  
Maybe I'm just really fucking fast.  
  
Almost smiling, Crono kicked down with deadly precision, the firearm leaving Chi's grip. His forearm slammed into the side of the Wutaiese man's head, throwing him down in a spiral that ended face up on the floor. He breathed in and out, putting a hand to his head, moaning from the strength and accuracy of the blow. Everything seemed normal again. There was no danger at the moment.  
  
Until Chi threw a kick at him from the floor, when everything went back into a rush. Crono's knee then jerked up and his shin caught the top of Chi's foot, cutting it off before it built up any serious power. The downed fighter hit out at him with his legs again and again, trying to knock Crono down, but each one was almost effortlessly blocked, his limbs reacting at just the right time. Discouraged, Chi's face showed ragged signs of frustration and panic.  
  
Where's your gun now..?  
  
He grabbed the last feeble kick his opponent threw and pulled his leg upward, forcing Chi to his feet. He made sure the gold-and-black-haired Yakuza saw the mocking grin on his face, and waited for him to attack.  
  
"You fuckin'.ugh!!" Chi shouted, winding back and throwing a hard swinging hook at Crono. It barely passed in front of his nose as he slipped his torso back, and stepped. His attacker followed through with a low uppercut, which passed through the air to the side of him as he sharply dodged.  
  
The Kensai counterattacked with a vicious combination of jabs and crosses, some cracking bones in his enemy's face, others pounding deep into the flesh of his abdomen. He saw the man's legs begin to give way, and jerked back, sweeping his left leg up high, kicking the Wutaise fighter under his chin and lifting him up into the air, into the middle of the floor where he landed in a heap.  
  
"Trying to kill me?" Crono asked him as he slowly moved around on the floor, wiping blood off his face. The redhead swaggered toward him. "Try a little harder then. Come on. Kill me." He said, poking him in the back with his foot. With a hating shout, Chi rolled over to face Crono. The submachine gun was pointed right at him.  
  
The bullets were much more than insignificant pops as they ripped through his side and thigh, coming closer to his midsection as he threw himself backward. He wasn't ready. He'd forgotten where the weapon had landed. He skidded across the panels on the floor, having been shot for the first time, completely prone, completely shocked.  
  
He heard Chi get up. He heard him curse as he walked slowly over toward him, flat on his back. Chi raised the gun, pointed it at Crono's stomach, and pulled the trigger. It was like a cannon going off.  
  
He felt it like a hard punch, only with hot screaming metal instead of a fist. His eyes widened. He felt warm, sticky blood pouring out into his shirt, all over him. His vision began to fade, more gunshots ringing out, glass breaking, Chi's angry shouts.he couldn't feel it anymore.he felt himself slipping.  
  
It was finally over.  
  
THE END Part Twenty-One 


	22. Bittersweetness

ADVERSARY  
  
Guardia Castle, 1002 A.D.  
  
Crono stared into the full-length mirror, analyzing the young man in the glass with a curious smile. Not much of a vain smile really, nor a cocky smirk. It was more of a representation of his lighthearted outlook on his appearance. He had to have a bit of a self-deprecating sense of humor, otherwise he'd fall prey to criticism constantly.  
  
Six foot four.  
  
He'd always been average to above average height as a kid, very agile, strongly built. However in his last two teenage years, he'd shot up quite a lot. More than he'd been able to get used to. He sighed.  
  
One hundred fifty pounds.kinda freakish.  
  
It all happened so fast. First thing he knew, his clothes weren't fitting, then he started tripping over his own legs, and before too long he was hitting his head on the doorjamb in his room. The same doorjamb he used to have to jump up to grab onto. He'd gone up vertically at such a rate that all his efforts to build his strength visually disappeared.  
  
The door opened at the other end of the room behind him. In the mirror he could see Marle poke her head in and look at him.  
  
"Admiring ourselves, eh?" She said with a smile, swaggering toward him. He grinned a bit, looking at her through her reflection.  
  
"Oh yeah. Big time. Popsicle sticks are all the rage this year." said Crono, with mild sarcasm. She touched him on the shoulder, joining him at the mirror, looking at the two of them together.  
  
"Don't get all upset about it. Besides," she paused, "I like it. There's more of you to go around now."  
  
"Yeah. Hey you know what we could do tomorrow for my birthday?" He asked, turning toward her, stifling a laugh.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"We could tie my feet together and run a string off the knot and you all could take turns flying me like a kite outside."  
  
"Crono!" She said with a shocked laugh, lightly hitting him on the chest. Continuing his joke, he widened his eyes, and pretended to stagger around until he fell back flat.  
  
"Whoa, hey there, be careful! I'm not that well grounded." He said, accepting her outstretched hand and getting up off the castle floor.  
  
"C'mon, in a few hours you'll be nineteen, so try and act like it." She said, half joking. He looked back at the mirror, only himself and the opposite side of the room visible in the shine.  
  
"Hey, you know what I'd really like to do tomorrow?" he asked, hanging the question.  
  
"What's that? We've all made great plans for you." She reflected in response. He scratched the back of his head.  
  
"I was thinking.maybe we could just go out for a while, you know, just you and me. Like we used to?" She didn't respond immediately. He continued to gaze at the setting sun in the mirror.  
  
"I mean, sure, I like spending time with everybody here, but I think we should get back to just us every once in a while.what do you think?" he asked again. No answer. He shielded his eyes from the now-blinding sunrays.  
  
"Hey, Marle?" He said, turning around, shaking his head clear. She wasn't there. He blinked a few times.  
  
"Marle? Where'd you go?" Crono called, louder, stepping out into the room.  
  
What.?  
  
"Marle?"  
  
He turned around as he felt the tingly premonition of someone looming behind him.  
  
Massive arms stopped his turn, and wrapped themselves around his throat, like a snake, crushing yet fluid.  
  
He felt his head smash through the mirror, into the wall on the other side. He still couldn't breathe.  
  
Then he was in the air, as if he were being held up as a victory trophy. He couldn't see his attacker, but he flailed back at where he imagined their face must have been.  
  
His hands only made contact with the wall, yet out of his assailant's grip he fell. On his knees he wiped the blood from his face, shaking in shock. Caressing the ground for a piece of glass, he snatched one up, ready to use it as a weapon. In the reflection of the red-smeared glass, he could make out an image.  
  
"Sephiroth." the word played across his lips. He didn't know what it meant. It had just suddenly emerged in his mind. He saw the giant man reach down toward him again, only more slowly this time. He could feel the thick fingers wrench down on his shoulder.  
  
He slashed around with his splinter of glass, putting a tremendous amount of force behind the swipe. He felt the slick resistance of flesh against the makeshift blade, and the soft give in pressure as the skin broke. He jerked the shard clear after tearing across the upper torso, and whirled around, ready to finish the fool who dared to attack him in his own home.  
  
Marle stared back at him, face pale, eyes wide.  
  
Blood pouring out from the deep wound in her chest.  
  
"Marle!? God.where.where did you come from!? Fuck.I." He glanced down at the reddened knife in his hand.  
  
Knife..?  
  
She continued to stare back at him, with a hollow expression, caught between confused and despairing emotions. He dropped the knife on the floor. He placed his trembling hands on her arms. He looked more petrified than she did.  
  
"Marle.what's happening to you.to me?! God, Marle!! What the fuck is going on!?" He screamed, shaking her, her blood soaking into him.  
  
"Why...?" she whispered, hoarsely. "Why did you run away from me.?" her knees gave, and he lowered her slowly to the floor.  
  
"Marle, I didn't run.I was here, then Sephiroth, he."  
  
"Don't you love me anymore, Crono.?" her voice was sad, almost like she didn't want to hear the answer. "Didn't it mean anything.everything we went through together?" he did nothing but stare. "Please.please tell me you still love."  
  
"Marle!" he screamed out, almost in anger, ripping away from her. The sight of her blood and pity made him suddenly panic. He grabbed the knife, once a piece of mirror, and held it up, up to the light that streamed into the window. He could see himself emblazoned in a gold outline along the edges of the blade, the center hollow and dark.  
  
"Marle." he said again. "Marle, I want to die."  
  
"No." she whispered from behind him.  
  
"I.hate.the man I've become."  
  
"Please, don't." he heard her head fall limp.  
  
"Look at what I've done to you, I, fuck.Marle!!! No, dammit.I." He came running to her side.  
  
"Please.tell me.please." she looked up at him with such pain.  
  
This is fucking insane.  
  
Fucking insane.  
  
Insane.  
  
"I hate you all." He whispered, angling the blade toward him. "Just let me go.let me go.please."  
  
He pushed it through the outer wall of his abdomen, then deeper. Finally, he let the blade free, and knelt down, bleeding inside out, eyes closed.  
  
Let me go.just let me go.  
  
* * *  
  
The shout he produced upon snapping awake from the horrific vision could have called an army to battle if there'd been one nearby.  
  
Still alive.  
  
Disoriented, racked with pain, but still alive, he sat up forcefully.  
  
"Aaaaahh!!" He shouted again. Louder, much more painfully.  
  
He felt the throbbing, tearing sensation of an aggravated, fresh wound in his stomach.right where he'd stabbed himself.  
  
But that was only a dream.  
  
God.It had to be a dream.  
  
It can't be.  
  
He was in darkness, again. He couldn't see the wound, and he didn't dare touch it. The only thing he could do was lay back down. Moving his body again, he now could feel several other wounds on his upper leg. How they got there he hadn't the slightest idea.  
  
But he was alive. He wasn't a maniac lying bloody on the floor at his own hand. He was still breathing. He was still sane. None of it had actually happened the way he'd just experienced.  
  
He relaxed, trying to slow his sharp breathing.  
  
"So you hung in there after all.you're pretty tough." A voice said rather quietly from across the room. Crono was about to spring up from surprise, but stifled his reaction. It would have surely hurt once again. Instead, he slowly turned his head and focused on where the noise must have been coming from.  
  
Alexander Gainsborough was standing in a dimly lit doorway, a tired look about him. He looked like he'd been up and running for a few days straight with no rest. Crono wasn't sure what to think. He knew he didn't like Alex at all, but this time he seemed different, not on the offensive. Besides, Crono was in no position to hurl insults.  
  
"What's going on?" was all Crono responded with, bleakly. He'd been asking himself that question a lot.  
  
"You remember your run-in with Shio?"  
  
Shio.who?  
  
".No."  
  
"Ah, maybe you knew him as Chi.Wutaise guy, gold hair, kinda trigger happy."  
  
The images of the fight flashed back into Crono's mind. It was a one-sided massacre in his favor until.  
  
"Shit." Crono whispered. "He gave me these wounds. I remember him shooting at me.he must have."  
  
"Yeah, your lucky I got there in time. You'd be in a few more pieces right now if I hadn't."  
  
He was confused. "You helped me out? How? We were alone in the mansion."  
  
"You don't remember the glass breaking all over the place? I kicked a window in after I couldn't get through the front door. Then this kid went crazy with his SMG, so I took him down with mine before he got a good shot on me. You are a lucky son of a bitch, let me tell you that."  
  
"I kind of remember the glass, I don't know.Alex.why are you here? You're Sephiroth's son.you're not out to help me.I'm not stupid." Crono said, agitatedly, sitting up. Alex seemed to grow angered as well.  
  
"He is not a father." He said, gritting his teeth. "He, god, you should see what he did to Mia.he mangled her, and she's just a fucking girl!"  
  
"Mia?"  
  
"Yeah, Mia. You know her as Zeta. Dammit, don't you see what he's doing to us? He's in all of our heads.don't you see it!?" He almost shouted at Crono.  
  
"Yeah, I see it, alright? But I can't do anything anymore. I'm done. I have served my damn purpose in this lifetime. The only thing left for me to do is fuck it up, so just go about your business and leave me the hell out of it. I am done fighting." His defenses snapped up. Alex looked at him, seeming to call his bluff.  
  
"And Yuffie?" Yuffie. He hadn't heard that name spoken aloud for quite some time. It felt weird to hear it again.  
  
"What about her."  
  
"Don't give me your 'I don't care about anyone' shit, you know 'what about her'."  
  
"There's nothing about her. Big deal, we kissed in a nightclub. It's not enough to put myself through hell over."  
  
"Maybe she doesn't think that." Alex said, somewhat discouraged.  
  
"Maybe I don't care. How about that, huh?" Crono shot back. "Just tell me how to get the hell out of here, give me the Mako back and none of you will ever see me again."  
  
"Y'know, I don't know why I'd tell you this since you're being such a pal to me, but if you took just one ounce more of Mako into your system you'd fucking explode all over the place. Know why they give it to you in small amounts? Because it never leaves your body! The little candy high you got yourself on is going to take one hell of a long time to get under control."  
  
"Great, just get me out of here then. I'll walk if I have to."  
  
"You know you're really ungrateful." Alex said after a long pause.  
  
"Yeah, I'm really sorry. Look you're the guy that had a gun to my head in a hotel room at one point. You're the number one lacky for big Mister Badass Mind-Control man. I don't even think I can trust you."  
  
His frustration boiling over, Alex stormed at Crono, who could sense the seriousness of his anger.  
  
Crono's eyes flashed bright green. Everything seemed to move fluidly again, clear, logical. Upon the medical table, he coiled his spine and neck like a cobra. On his toes he rose up a few inches, supporting the rest of his weight on his hands. He would tear the son of Sephiroth to pieces if he came any closer, and Alexander knew it.  
  
The Gainsborough boy stopped walking and threw his hands up in exasperation. He was furious, but not stupid. Crono was burning on as much Mako as Sephiroth was back in his soldier days. He was a firebomb despite his lack of experience with the chemical and his several wounds.  
  
"Alright. Fine. Go outside. I'll take care of everything." He walked back through the door and shut it. The redheaded man was alone again in the dim blue light of the lab.  
  
The traces of the bizarre nightmare still ate at him somewhat. It was too odd, yet too plausible given the recent circumstances for his comfort. Marle had been the farthest thing from his mind for a long while.  
  
Yet it wasn't the surreal representation of his former lover that bothered him as much as his sudden decision to kill himself. He didn't really want to die, now that he thought about it. He'd rather have a life, even a lousy one at that, that no life at all.  
  
Whatever.thinking too much again.  
  
He slowly came off the table, resting his feet down.  
  
I do that a lot.excessive thinking.  
  
He carefully stretched out his somewhat numb limbs.  
  
None of this makes any sense anyway.the whole mess.why bother reasoning with it.  
  
His black sleeveless shirt was on the table across the room. He picked it up and slid it on, taking notice of its wetness near the small circular hole in the front. Normally he would have been disturbed, but for some reason he found it funny.  
  
It'll make for good conversation at least.might as well put the jacket on over it.could freak someone out.  
  
He headed up the rickety spiral staircase, out through the not-so-secret- anymore passageway, and out the front door, not bothering to look at the broken glass or the bloodstains of the wooden floor. The new Mako rush numbed him out of the pain of his injuries and tremendously accelerated the healing process. He didn't need to be reminded of them.  
  
Outside on the porch the cool air felt good on his skin. He sat down on the steps, wrapping his arms around his knees, looking out over the town of Nibelheim.  
  
These people are so normal.they just live from day to day.they've got jobs, families.shit, it's boring but it's better than the alternative.  
  
He wondered to himself.  
  
Was I ever normal? I think I was.I had a mother.I suppose I had a father.never knew him though, did I? All that junk about being a Kensai and reading his scrolls.why did I make up such stupid crap? I'm no damn Kensai.I don't even remember where I first heard that word.probably from Melichoir.  
  
He laughed sadly.  
  
I'm a katana-waving loser that punches trees.  
  
The bitter laugh grew louder. It was true. He had been such a dreamer. The only reason he wasn't normal was his own need to not be normal.  
  
Thinking too much, again.  
  
After a quiet while, the door behind him softly opened, the sound of sneakers on the aged wood came out onto the balcony area of the porch. He knew who it was even before he glanced at her as she sat down next to him on the steps without a word.  
  
Damn that Alex.  
  
He'd expected the kid to do something as predictable as to send her out here after him, though he hadn't prepared himself for it. So he acted like it didn't even phase him. She might as well not have existed.  
  
Yuffie didn't look or speak to him either, only stared ahead at the quiet town that neared dusk. She leaned back on her hands, her feet rolling from side to side in opposite directions upon the heels.  
  
He could see her out of the corner of his eye, just sitting there, almost seeming to mock him. Why? Why did she feel the need to prolong the inevitable? Why did she come out here just to make him uncomfortable? Didn't she get it that it was worthless to say anything at this point?  
  
Ridiculous.  
  
"Do you know how I can get out of here?" He said, standing up stiffly and facing himself toward her, yet still not looking directly into her eyes.  
  
"Yep." She murmured, stretching the "y" a noticeable bit. God, she wasn't making it any easier.  
  
".Let's go then." he tried again, turning away, rubbing the back of his neck. She didn't respond, but the got to her feet, and went up the walk, and out the gate, leaving it open behind her. Either she wanted him to follow her or she was coming right back.  
  
What now...?  
  
There wasn't any harm in it, so he followed shortly afterward, looking over the fence. He could see her up by the side of the gate, unlocking a silver car in the large gravel driveway. Was she going to drive him somewhere or something? His feet crunching the along the gravel, he traced in her footsteps, walking around to the passengers side door, where he at last stood and looked straight at her.  
  
She was standing there with the key half in the lock, sort of staring through the car. She seemed to have interrupted her own thoughts, and looked as if she was searching for something to say, but couldn't find the words. She looked up at him, but only for a second. Her brown eyes were only a brief dark flash before they went back down again, and she hastily opened the door, and slid inside. Crono followed suit.  
  
The ambience at North Corel station was arid and bleak, kind of like the way Crono was feeling as he waited there on the platform, next to the girl that had driven him there. Throughout the whole trip through the mountain pass, they had not said a thing to one another, nor had they exchanged a look. He was getting used to it, he supposed.  
  
Now they waited for the 11:30 train that would take him across the continent, where he would then go about his business wherever it led.  
  
He stole another look at her, standing there with her arms crossed a few feet away from him, her shoulder-length hair covering her eyes, her jaw locked as if to stifle her emotions. She looked like she might cry, perhaps, which he would not be able to bear.  
  
No.  
  
He realized, on second thought.  
  
Let her go on and cry.see if I care.  
  
It was about time he put himself before someone else. He was sick of being thrown through an emotional loop by every girl that came his way.  
  
The horn at the end of the tunnel sounded, the chugging of the steam engine thundered out of the silence toward him. The train roared up alongside the platform, grinding to a halt as the boarding bays lined up with the docks. The doors slid open as the whistle blew and the conductor hollered, signaling the other passengers to hustle onto the cars. It was time for him to go.  
  
"Alright, I'll." He started to say, trailing off somewhat.  
  
"Yeah." She cut him off with a brief nod, hiding her face away from him. His throat burned.  
  
"Okay, then, bye." He spun around curtly and walked up the steps into the car, after the others had already hoarded on. He didn't look back at her. He couldn't.  
  
The car was full of strange faces. Most of them were looking out the window. At what, though? Oh, yes. He knew. They were looking at the terrible mess he'd made. They were looking at the last few fragments of his heart standing out there on the riser. He tried to numb them out. They didn't know what they were talking about. Of course they didn't.  
  
"Hey, is she yours out there?" The conductor said to him, leaning over the seat. Was she his? What the hell was that supposed to mean.  
  
"I don't know." He wanted to kick himself for saying it! Why had such a stupid thing come out of his mouth?  
  
"She's pretty, she is. Hm, now what's she crying about?" She was crying? Well of course she was.he just hoped she wouldn't.  
  
"I.don't."  
  
"You don't know. Yeah, figures. Most guys I see leaving it all behind with a." He looked at Crono's ticket. "one way pass to nowhere.have no idea what everyone's crying about.maybe that's why they leave, hey?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe. I don't know, look, I." He strained out of his knotted vocal chords.  
  
"Well, I dunno. It's your call, chief. If not, enjoy your ride." The old man said with a sad smile, shaking his head and walking into the next car, leaving Crono staring there once again at the seat in front of him.  
  
It's your call, chief..  
  
He became lost in the minutes. Next thing he knew the whistle was blowing again and the doors closed.  
  
Your call, chief.  
  
Sweat started pouring down his forehead. His heart raced. The wheels slowly awoke from their brief sleep. The train was leaving, him and all.  
  
Your call.  
  
He turned. He couldn't resist looking back. He had to. Just one look.  
  
She was still there, staring right back at him. Her eyes were red and running. Her lips shook in seeming agony until they formed the words.  
  
I love you.  
  
His heart stopped. He lost control.  
  
Jumping up out of his seat he stumbled forward as the car jarred under him. His legs forced him onward. He ripped open the sliding gate between cars and pulled himself into the interstation where the breeze flowed by. After kicking in the glass exit door, he threw himself off the moving train.  
  
For a while he seemed to hang there, between the track and the platform. Images and memories flashed in front of his eyes, all to quick for his mind to register, yet on the inside he knew them all.  
  
It hurt like hell, his collision with the pavement. He landed on his side and rolled for several feet, ripping his tattered clothing and further tearing his skin up. Flat on his stomach with the wind knocked out of his lungs, he looked up, back down the platform where she stood, watching in disbelief.  
  
Forcing strength back in, he stood up, staggering, choking on his breath.  
  
Everything he needed was right there in front of him.  
  
He was alive again.  
  
So very alive.  
  
THE END Part Twenty-two 


	23. Pregame

ADVERSARY  
  
Nibelheim, 0005 NCE  
  
Alex stared down at the young girl on the glass surface of the table, her hair splayed about, her breathing soft and slow. She hadn't moved since he'd brought her there.  
  
Like a painting.  
  
He thought.  
  
A still life.  
  
Mia Kamachi was dying. A slow, unconscious death was pulling her deeper and deeper into oblivion, and Alex was powerless to stop it. It enraged him so. Why did she, of all people, have to die? She was so young, maybe only sixteen, and she was sluggishly being poisoned to death by his father's doing.  
  
Her crime? She was Yuffie Kisaragi's best friend from Wutai. A shy and younger girl, she'd been thankful to tag along whenever the brash emperor's daughter would go out on some rebellious excursion. She was like the kid sister Yuffie never had. They ditched their homeland after Yuffie's eighteenth birthday and went out and saw the world with their other friend, Shio.  
  
Shio shared a similar story. He was the twenty-six-year-old son of the captain of the Wuitaise Imperial Guard. He dreamed of one day being among the ranks of his father, redeeming the name of the homeland after the Midgar-Wutai war. He was a friend to the girls, although he disliked being seen around such young kids at the time (there was a five year age gap between him and Yuffie, a ten year one between him and Mia). He taught them most of what he learned about fighting from the military school he attended, which is why Yuffie was very grateful to him. His reluctant lessons more than once saved her neck in the heat of battle.  
  
Capturing them was all part of creating a psychological scenario for Yuffie, once she, too, was taken. It gave her a sense of belonging or something. Alex didn't know. His father was an expert at manipulating the mind. Now, apparently, the two friends had outlived their usefulness, according to Sephiroth.  
  
Yuffie's whole purpose was to lure Crono into a trap, Alex supposed. It was awful cliché, but sometimes the best ideas were the time-tested ones. Back when the whole scheme was arranged the previous year, Crono was supposed to be persuaded to "their" side. He was supposed to help become part of the force to crush the human opposition, mainly Cloud Strife.  
  
Why he wanted help was beyond Alex's comprehension. Sephiroth scared the hell out of him sometimes. The man knew the mathematical formulae to create supernovas that ripped star systems apart. As externally dangerous as he was, it was nothing compared to the deadly force of his mind. He could travel through holes in parallel universe planes.he even managed to smash two of them together.  
  
As far as Alexander understood it, the plane Crono was from was weak and ravaged by recently closed gaps in linear time. Apparently frequent time transcendence caused the fibers of the universe to begin to tear, making it amply easy for Sephiroth to converge on them, along with the world he'd formerly been banished from by the unnamed powers that be. Sephiroth liked to think of them as "gods" he could one day find and vent his rage upon, but Alex doubted it. The idea of muscular, white-bearded men sitting upon clouds with javelins didn't seem too plausible to him, although who was he to talk. He was born in a gap of negative energy between planes from a couple with the one of the strangest relationships ever.  
  
So in the basement of a notorious mansion, beside a fading soul is where it left him, caught between his desire to help his father, and his racking conscience, and his desire for a normal life with his younger brother and mother and a non-psychopathic father.  
  
He wished he'd never been born at all, but that didn't help anything. Suicide was for the weak that wanted to leave a facade of inner strength in their wake. It was the easy way out. He'd rather go out fighting, regardless of whose side he was on.  
  
He covered Mia's body with a sheet. He was tired of looking at her, that empty feeling rising in him.  
  
It's not like I really cared for her or anything.it's just a shame to see a young kid get caught up in this mess.  
  
He stood up, and started walking out of the basement, only once stopping.  
  
"Hey, mom." He said, feeling stupid and sad at the same time, looking up at the woman locked in the stasis tube. Originally he'd come out here in a blind, patricidal rage in the hopes of finding and killing Sephiroth and then having his mother heal the dying girl, but that wore off. It was the heat of the moment. He went a little crazy.  
  
It runs in the family, I guess.  
  
Her eyes half opened as she floated there, looking through the thick glass at her son. Her pale, emaciated face almost seemed to brighten a little.  
  
".sorry about all this." He said, and then turned away. It was the first words he'd spoken to her in several months. He sort of felt bad.  
  
He sort of didn't know what to feel. Her being kept there was a necessary evil. It was better than Sephiroth killing her after she'd served the purpose of bearing his two sons.still, it was disturbing.  
  
So what now.?  
  
He supposed he would go back to Guardia like he was supposed to, and take out the king, then take his place like they did in Midgar with President Kipling. It was then that a war between the two cities would ensue, serving to both diminish the human population, and create a bedlam for Sephiroth to rise to power over. After all, the public thought he was dead (again), after the warehouse explosion. Alex wondered how intelligent a race could be that expected a man whom strolled through a blazing village amidst the flames to die in fire. Sometimes he agreed with his father about the trifling of the human race.  
  
Hours later, via helicopter, Alexander Gainsborough was on the outskirts of the Guardia area, north of the town called Truce, in a small clearing in the forest. It was kind of amusing to leave such a far advanced vehicle in such a primitive area, but the place had seen stranger things.  
  
Like a crazy redheaded freak zipping in and out of existence with a time machine.it's a crying shame that thing doesn't exist anymore. It'd make this shit more fun.  
  
He thought to himself as he walked up the long staircase to the gates of Guardia Castle. At the top, the guards gave him somewhat disdainful looks as they stood at reluctant attention. He was only happy to return the gesture as he walked past.  
  
If you only knew.you'd be a bit more respectful.  
  
He slowly felt himself resuming his old mindset. It felt good to be Alex again. There was no more inner struggle, no more doubts or worries. From then on, he told himself, he would be proud to be the son of Sephiroth, the great conqueror.  
  
The inside had been refinished, ever since Crono and his goons had torn things up some months back. New recruits had been enlisted, and the guards were better trained, and better prepared to handle danger now, thanks to Alex.  
  
However, the similar disapproving glances that the guards handed out to him were growing in number from other people. Alex got the hint that he and his elusive father were beginning to wear out their welcome in the castle, with half a year of employment and still no captive Crono. Of course the fools were being duped right in front of their faces, but they were mostly too blind to see. They now were beginning to grow angry, suspicious of whether or not the mercenaries were really going to capture the old champion after all. Perhaps they were just extortionists looking for a free ride.  
  
They figured they had to work quickly now, for at any moment the king could summon them and proceed to dismiss them from his castle, wrecking their chances of seizing control of the throne. The procedure was simple, and everything was set in motion, the only factor that still remained up in the air was proper timing.  
  
Wait'll these boys start taking bullets.  
  
He snickered, walking past the rows of soldiers that now patrolled the castle walls. As planned, Midar-Guardia relations were drastically worsening as time went on. Border disputes, transportation and trade problems, culture shock, bigotry, and political disruption racked diplomacy between the lands. It was the perfect foreplay for a war, which the Guardia kingdom would be sadly disadvantaged in, due to their lack of advanced projectile weapons and combat vehicles.  
  
It'll be funny, nevertheless.  
  
Strife and his cronies would no doubt try to put a stop to the fighting, causing them to be viewed as nuisances and potential enemies of the state. Crono would undoubtedly reappear once the games started, Alexander predicted. He knew that deep down Crono couldn't resist that strict of a call to duty. He called himself a Kensai after all, as did Alex. They weren't supposed to back down from fights.  
  
Maybe we'll be at opposite ends of the blade one day.  
  
Then again, it would be wiser to leave such an undertaking to his father. Sephiroth truly wanted him dead. Alex would have just liked to see who was the better. Whimsical desires like that often left one bleeding from the chest.  
  
"So you want me to give an executive order to begin moving troops in a preemptive strike against the forces of Guardia?" Elianor recapitulated the instructions to his father on the other end of the phone, as he reclined in the former ShinRa presidential chair. Sephiroth mused an agreement, wanting him to continue.  
  
"This gets all over the news, then we expect Cloud to show up in a huff tomorrow morning. We demand his participation, if he refuses, which he will; we get him on obstruction of justice charges. We declare him a traitor and a failure to aid his city in times of need, and then we take him from there."  
  
"Good. You actually remembered everything."  
  
"So, what do I do once he's been arrested?"  
  
"Nothing. Don't arrest him. Stage something drastic and leave yourself no choice but to kill him and everyone else in his group. Bring them to you if necessary. Just don't slip up."  
  
"Alright then. I'll get on it." Elianor clicked the phone off and set it down in the cradle. He spun the chair around and looked out over the city in late afternoon. This time tomorrow the streets would be under martial law. The time had finally come for him to take control and prove his worth as a conqueror and a ruler. He wouldn't let Sephiroth down.  
  
"General Blake." He said into the intercom, using the magically artificial vocal chords of the dead president to speak.  
  
"Yes sir, Mr. President." The gruff but attentive voice answered through the speakerphone.  
  
"Call your officers together for war council." He said calmly.  
  
"War council?" the general exclaimed, somewhat shocked but doing his earthly best to contain himself before his superior.  
  
"Yes, war council. Be in my office at 1800 with your men and the chiefs of staff."  
  
"With all due respect, sir, that's two hours from now! Has there been a." He started.  
  
"I know how to tell time, son. Get your men in gear and be here at 6 o' clock sharp. That will be all." Elianor firmly cut him off, ending the call, and began writing notes in a pad on his desk. He had a bit of a speech to prepare, a damn convincing one at that. Still, anxiousness rose in the recesses of his mind.  
  
The plan was in its final stages. The real games were about to begin.  
  
THE END Part Twenty-Three 


	24. The Few: The Proud

ADVERSARY  
  
Midgar, Sector Six, 05 N.C.E.  
  
The noonday sun was almost hanging at its peak as General Blake marched his squad through the streets of Sector Six, clearing everyone out of the way, placing the entire city under direct martial law. He'd just received the order from the war council the night before, and it was his obligation to work as quickly as possible, and ensure achievement of the objective, at all costs.  
  
This is really odd.getting executive orders like this at such a time.  
  
Kipling really wasn't acting like himself lately, not that there had ever been similar circumstances before, with the reported assassin attacks, the planetary crisis, the rumored return of Sephiroth. His choice of action wasn't necessarily bad, Blake thought, just rather out of character. Kipling had been known to cover his own pockets at all costs, and keep police and military matters to a stingy minimum.  
  
So, despite the strangeness of it all, the general was actually somewhat glad to be out in the field again, handing out the order for martial law, getting ready for a possible skirmish against the Guardia nation, whom, Kipling had informed him, had allied itself with the forces of Sephiroth. It seemed unbelievable, but it was one of the only possible explanations for the recent events.  
  
Things were so linear lately. Life, it seemed, had veered off course for the masses. People stopped recreating, stopped relating. The economy wasn't doing too bad, but everyone now kind of coasted through their workdays, ate dinner in silence, and watched the latest grim news with heavy eyes. The spirit of Midgar that had been burning bright for the last four years had diminished.  
  
Yet the people were used to living without hope. Less than a decade ago, the ShinRa corporation had dominated the city from the plate, forcing the less fortunate to exist in petty slums below their perch. The victory of Strife and his allies had given life to a once pathetic metropolis, and now it was fading back into same mindset.  
  
War is good for national pride, they say.  
  
He reassured himself. After all, what was so special about Cloud's actions? They united the public against a common enemy, a universally hated oppressor. Now Blake was about to do the same thing, if all went well.  
  
The fifty-man regiment rounded the corner of Main Street near city hall, then stopped at Blake's command.  
  
"What's happened, sir?" a lieutenant asked from the back. Blake responded with an open hand, demanding silence.  
  
"Something's not right. This is too quiet for Main Street." He let the somewhat cliché statement hang. Immediately the group tensed up, weapons rechecked. "Let's be careful, okay?" They nodded, somewhat uneasily. Sure enough, their questions were answered at the end of the next street. A crowd of civilians had gathered in a silent mass in the road, some armed, some standing defenseless. The soldiers again stopped marching, and waited, looking the citizens of Midgar in the eyes.  
  
They seemed unshaken by the troopers' presence, but still nervous of the inevitable fact that none among them could fight such a force. Still, they stood, seemingly free of the intent to clear out, as the army was demanding.  
  
"Alright, you all, let's clear on out of here. Nothing to be worried about, just standard military procedure. We'd greatly appreciate it if you'd all just get to your homes now, and we'll try to get back to normal as soon as possible." Blake said calmly. The staring continued. Neither party moved. It seemed like every member from either side had chosen a member from the other to lock eyes with. The general tried again. "Come on, folks. Let's not be difficult. Let's work together on this, okay?"  
  
"Bullshit, man!"  
  
"How can we work with people who are imprisoning us in our own homes?"  
  
"You can't just come in here and lock us up! We've got a right to know what's going on!"  
  
The crowd shouted. The soldiers were looking very uneasy. Riots were ugly things indeed, and this appeared to be a possible one in the making.  
  
"Look, no one's getting locked up, alright? We're just asking that for your own safety you return to your homes." Blake reasoned.  
  
"Why? Where's the invading army?"  
  
"Or is there something you're not telling us, Blake?"  
  
"I have orders." He stated, shakily, slipping into army mode, ".to ensure that all sectors are placed under martial law until order of removal by the President. You are obligated to comply as citizens of this city."  
  
"Then why weren't we asked?"  
  
"We never got a say in the matter!"  
  
"You can't do this! We won't just stand for it!"  
  
Blake's lieutenant caught his eye. He was looking over at Blake with a raised eyebrow, seeming to pose a question. The General looked to the street below, then forward to the crowd. He nodded to his lieutenant, and turned to walk back behind the ranks.  
  
Lieutenant Brockton shouted in command as he raised his assault rifle up high, screams erupting from the mass. The grenade launcher "thunked" as the flash canister streaked toward the mob, exploding into a burning white magnesium cloud.  
  
Civilian discontent was not about to become part of the equation.  
  
The two men sat across the table from each other, silent. The younger occasionally fidgeted with his goggles, but aside from the brief nervous release, was motionless. It was a bleak day, just like yesterday had been. Just like the day before that, and the one before that, even.  
  
Bleak.  
  
It was the perfect word to describe the city in it's past few days. It'd come so far, risen up so high from the ashes, only to come to an insipid halt halfway up the mountain. They had undoubtedly seen worse days, but none quite so sluggish, so thick with exhaustion. The spring heat was just beginning to kick into high gear, and the city, it seemed, was long overdue to come out of it's winter hibernation.  
  
The troubling events of the past year were like none any of them had faced before. Instead of a firestorm that banded them all together in outraged, fight-for-your-life opposition, the crises were like needles in the body of the city, slowly sucking the energy from it's inhabitants. Everything just seemed to go wrong.  
  
So many things just.unexplained.  
  
It was enough to make one crazy.  
  
What happened to Crono and Yuffie?  
  
What happened to Sephiroth?  
  
Where the hell did Sephiroth come from?  
  
Aeris?  
  
Needles. Thousands of needles stabbing him from all directions. Even the little stuff. He was lost and falling through space with neither handhold nor foothold. So many questions.no answers.  
  
"What the fuck is wrong with your hands?!" He blurted out, slamming his fist down on the table. The youth jumped back in his seat, almost knocking their table and the adjacent tables in various directions.  
  
"Wh.what?" Leon stammered, sitting back up, hammered by the sudden outburst. Cloud stared back at him, breathing heavily.  
  
"You're hands.you're shiny fucking metal hands! What the hell is with your hands?" He continued, angrily. Leon gaped at him, completely perplexed.  
  
"What's you're problem, man? You just went apeshit outta nowhere." He said, defensively. Cloud was about to say something else, but stopped, drawing the words back in. He paused for a moment, tiredly running his hand through his blonde spikes.  
  
"I'm sorry, I just.needed an answer."  
  
"Uh."  
  
"It isn't driving you crazy? All this bizarre shit happening, people disappearing and reappearing here and there, old friends just showing up unannounced.especially when they're, yeah, supposed to be dead."  
  
Leon stared back as if Cloud had two heads. Cloud sighed.  
  
"Alright, look, I was just thinking out loud. This shit's getting to me, that's all. I mean, being a father is the most stressful thing ever, and on top of that I have to look over my shoulder 24/7 because, holy crap, some fucker wants to take over the world!"  
  
"I get ya, dude.I think. What's it have to do with my hands though?"  
  
"I don't know.that's just one of the million and a half things that have been keeping me from sleeping at night."  
  
"If I was married to what you're married to man, I sure as hell wouldn't be sleeping at night." He said with a grin, relaxing back and taking a drink from his glass. Cloud shook his head, fighting a stupid smile, to no avail.  
  
"You ass." He said, unable to control his chuckling. He raised his own glass to take another shot, but stopped himself, looking into the liquid. "You know, I never used to drink."  
  
"Yeah, I know. You never used to cuss either. But then again, people change, bro. I used to skateboard and watch TV, now I read actual books and take walks with Mel and we don't really say anything.shit just happens. People just change."  
  
"Yeah, but I'm acting more and more like Cid every f-.every day." He caught himself, putting the drink down.  
  
"Ah, you saved the world, man. You're allowed to turn into a grumpy old bastard after you save the world."  
  
"Leon, I'm only twenty six. I'm not washed up. I'm still a young guy."  
  
"Yeah well I'm nineteen and to me you're an old man." Leon mused with a sarcastic smile.  
  
"You have changed since last year."  
  
"Like how?"  
  
"I'm not sure.guess you grew up a bit. Became a little less stupidly friendly, which is to your credit, I have to admit. You can't put your kindest hand forward for everyone. Some people are just assholes and they always will be."  
  
Alazane laughed again. Cloud stopped talking for a second, wondered, then flattened his eyebrows.  
  
"Sorry, man." Leon sputtered through his chortling. "You set yourself up for that one." Cloud sighed.  
  
"You really think I'm that much of a hardass?"  
  
"Sure you're a hardass, but that's cool. I wouldn't want Cloud Strife to be anything but a hardass. I know funnier, looser dudes for sure, but would I trust my life with them? Hells no. You can't be everything, man. You just gotta find your niche."  
  
The words seemed to strike home. The soldier thought about them for a while, his eyes drifting toward some young kids who were passing the café on the pavement.  
  
"So where's your niche?" The older man asked, still watching the passer- bys. Leon shifted in his chair.  
  
"I guess I'm in." He responded. Cloud looked back at him, puzzled.  
  
"In what?"  
  
"The team. I got nothing to lose, so I'm in." He stated, rather slowly.  
  
"The team as in.my team?" Cloud asked, somewhat playing dumb. Leon was irritated by the stalling.  
  
"Yes, man. Your team. Avalanche. It's what I gotta do."  
  
"Why? We can handle ourselves when the time comes, if it does."  
  
"So can I. I'm in. You owe it to me after what I went through with you guys."  
  
".I suppose we do." and then, rising from the table, Strife notified him, "I'm going for a walk."  
  
"That you are."  
  
Cloud turned and left the youth in comfortable silence.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
Walking.walking.walk.ing.  
  
Each step compounded his uneasiness. Each breath brought him closer to anticipation.  
  
Should have told him no.he can't be involved in this.  
  
Then, an ironic laugh.  
  
I don't even know what "this" is.  
  
He was walking against an invisible force. His conscious mind was dragging him to the pavement. The only escape was to think about absolutely nothing.  
  
Why is this happening.how is this.  
  
He stopped walking, feeling almost like half a person standing on the city sidewalk.  
  
Happening.  
  
"Mister Strife!" A voice. He looked up.  
  
"Mister Strife! Glad to find you out here."  
  
Here?  
  
Cloud looked around. Sector Six. He didn't even remember walking into Sector Six.  
  
"Mister Strife! Don't tell me you've forgotten your manners! You haven't been out of service for that long!" Strife's eyes focused. A stout man with graying hair stood in front of him. Brass stars adorned the green jacket that enveloped him, amplifying his sense of authority.  
  
"Mister Strife, are you aware that you're in the presence of General Blake? Come on, Mister Strife. Are you feeling alright?"  
  
No.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, hell, son, it's good to see you." He said, slapping Cloud on the shoulder with playful brotherly aggression. The ex-soldier buckled with the force of the slap, all of the soldiers (whom seemed to fill the area out of nowhere) gasping. Blake was stunned for a moment. Cloud's head wobbled as he forced a crooked smile.  
  
"Guess I'm a little tired." Blake rowdily laughed at his comment, almost seeming to force it out, arousing a chorus of burly laughter from the soldiers, dutifully emulating their commander.  
  
"Ah, I always could take you, Strife. But seriously, is this a good time to talk?" He asked in a voice that didn't want to take no for an answer.  
  
No.  
  
"I guess it's as good as any." Cloud shrugged.  
  
"Cloud, we've always been able to count on you in the past."  
  
Oh, brother.  
  
"I know it's asking a lot, with your swell family and all."  
  
You don't know anything about my family.  
  
"We're in the middle of a potential war, Cloud. Our ranks are tight, and we're short on soldiers."  
  
Here it comes.  
  
"We need you Cloud. You're the best man we've got."  
  
Actually, you don't have me.  
  
He looked at him, eyes almost half closed, jaw slack, arms hanging at his sides.  
  
"Cloud?"  
  
War is the last thing this place needs.  
  
The energy within him was fighting to get out.  
  
Don't slip back into your old self again.say something.anything.  
  
"Mister Strife! The General is speaking to you! Show him some respect!" Lieutenant Brockton shouted at the silent blonde man, making him wince. Cloud's gaze wandered to the building to his right, involuntarily.  
  
Walked all the way to city hall.well I'll be.  
  
A hand hit his shoulder forcefully.  
  
"Strife!! Are you fucking deaf?! What the hell is with you!?" Brockton shook him. Cloud's head rolled loosely on it's axis.  
  
"Cloud, I don't find your act of defiance very amusing." Blake mused, irritably. "I have your service order in my pocket, Cloud." No response. Brockton looked inches away from punching the ex-mercenary in the face.  
  
"We are here to draft you, moron." The Lieutenant hissed at him, looking for a reaction, any reaction.  
  
"So.I don't have a choice in the matter?" Cloud said, weakly, looking at no one in particular.  
  
"Not any more, dickhead." Brockton continued before Blake could speak.  
  
"Stand down, Lieutenant.Strife, I'm dead serious, you're country is depending on you."  
  
"Not in the way you're talking about. Get your goons out of my way."  
  
"Are you refusing to cooperate?" Blake tested, nearing the end of his patience.  
  
"Are you retarded or something?" Strife responded, at the end of his.  
  
"Fine. Lieutenant, arrest this man."  
  
Brockton smiled, grabbing with his other hand for Cloud's arm. Clasping it, he began to attempt to bring it behind Cloud's back.whereupon he dropped the sidewalk with a broken jaw.  
  
Cloud shook him off and took a step back from the wide-eyed soldiers, all whom fumbled and jerked their guns until fifty or so muzzles were leveled at him from various directions. He held out his empty hands.  
  
"What are you looking at?" He asked them, a tiny smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, I haven't got a weapon, this isn't fair, now."  
  
Blake was furious. "You think this is a game? You really think so, Strife?"  
  
"I dunno.you're the guys with the guns, I figured you'd have the answers, too."  
  
"You are causing a scene."  
  
"Midgar's seen bigger things.like giant meteors."  
  
"I am tired of your babbling. Throw him in a fucking mental institution."  
  
Six guards stormed toward him, assault rifles in hand.  
  
"You can't shoot me if I don't have a gun." Cloud noted, out loud.  
  
"You don't make the laws, sir. I believe we do." One of the helmeted grunts told him, advancing steadily.  
  
"I believe I just knocked your CO unconscious, rookie. Don't tell me shit." The soldier shouted out a curse, and tried to slam his rifle butt down on the blonde.  
  
With a slap, Cloud loosely deflected and caught hold of it, twisting it from it's wielder's grip.  
  
"Oh, shit! He's got it! He's got my." An upward elbow silenced him as Cloud maneuvered the rifle into his firing hand. He flicked the safety off and looked up, noting his opponents, one of which was headed right for him, looking ready to either fire or really convince someone that he was going to shoot them.  
  
Cloud's dropkick met his chest, throwing him back, loosening his grip on his gun. Twisting, Cloud grabbed the loose weapon from mid-air, and fell to his knee, facing the opposite way, blazing low with both rifles. All five soldiers scattered with panic and leg wounds, scrambling to cover.  
  
You are now a free target.  
  
His mind told him. He acknowledged that full well as shots began to come his way. Turning back to Blake, both large weapons trained on the man, he immediately ceased the fire. Both parties' gazes met coldly. No words were exchanged.  
  
Staring straight back at all of them, Cloud slowly crept backward, up the brick steps of city hall. Up into the foyer. Through the glass doors.  
  
He turned his back and ran like hell, slinging one rifle over his shoulder, scattering white-collar workers and security guards with the threat of the other. Up the stairs he raced, ducking as he heard the assault team smash through the window.  
  
"Get down!! Everybody down!" They shouted, sweeping the lobby. Cloud moved in a crouch across the office floors.  
  
"He's upstairs! He went up there!" someone screamed.  
  
Shit.  
  
Cloud rose from his squat and bolted down the hallway, kicking through the "Authorized Personnel Only" door at the rightmost end of the upstairs level, slamming it closed immediately after, turning to face.  
  
A storage closet. The boots of the soldiers pounded nearer. They were going to shoot him if they saw him, even if he was in a closet. This was clearly the wrong door.until he looked up at the push-tile ceiling.  
  
Like a spider he climbed up the shelves stacked with boxes, swinging his foot up, kicking out the light bulb and the socket it rested in. With the other foot he smashed out the entire square section that covered the space between the roof and the ceiling. The shouts were right outside the door as he grabbed the open hole, his Mako-enhanced eyes adjusting to the darkness. He pulled himself through the crawlspace, once again in the musty confines of the rafters, a place he had often been in his adventuring days.  
  
Locking the tile back into place, he hurried onward through the small passage above the building, knowing wherever it would take him was better than wherever they would take him. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he was not panicked at all. He was calm, alert. Almost.euphoric.  
  
Cloud Strife was back in action.  
  
THE END  
Part Twenty-Four 


	25. Commitments and Covenants

ADVERSARY  
  
North Corel, 05 N.C.E.  
  
Her arms were wrapped so tightly around his torso, fists balled between his shoulder blades. It was somewhat difficult to breathe comfortably, but comfort wasn't his top priority at the moment. He most likely deserved whatever came of her reaction.  
  
Crono was leaning against a support pole, sharing possibly the most emotional moment of two lives with a girl he barely knew.  
  
It sounded like she had stopped crying, her face buried in his chest, somewhat awkwardly above the bullet hole in his shirt, to his observation. He was sure, however, that she most likely didn't notice. He had put his jacket around her, covering the bare arms that her red shirt had left exposed to the early March breeze.  
  
His chin resting on the crown of her head, he maneuvered his eyes from left to right, up and down the platform at the station. It was empty as far as he could see, no train having come in or left since the one he was supposed to have left on an hour ago. He didn't want to move to look any further down the tunnel, partly because he was afraid he might budge her, and partly because he didn't want to lose contact with her.  
  
Please don't ever leave me.  
  
She had cried to him, as soon as he reached her after his cataclysmic leap from the train.  
  
You're all I've got.  
  
And to that, he had said nothing. There was nothing to say to something like that. He knew she didn't want a sappy answer. Although their time together had been very limited, he knew that wasn't their style.  
  
But she was serious. And her words made him think.  
  
She's right.there's no one else anymore.  
  
They had no friends, no family, no places to call home. They were mere ghosts of who they had been, the only two in the world who could feel each other's pain after their ordeal.  
  
But within the confusion and sadness, there still lay a somewhat positive notion. They had nothing except each other, drawing them closer in a bare, unobstructed way. There would be no more fights, no danger, no constant strain upon the will.  
  
There is beauty in loss.  
  
The saying he'd been consoled by his elders following his father's death reemerged in his mind. Maybe it wasn't just one of those things people said to try and make you feel better.  
  
Maybe it's kind of true.  
  
He swayed her slightly, side to side, returning her constrictive embrace with one arm, slowly touching her hair with the other. It had been something he'd wanted to do ever since he'd first met her, but never got the chance to, given their rocky situation.  
  
A stupid, almost inappropriate smile crossed him. Perhaps it was just nervous release, he thought at first, but he couldn't deny the feeling heaviness he'd felt for so long starting to ease up. He'd made himself so miserable in the past, he guessed it was only fair that he be allowed some levity.  
  
We might even get to know each other.  
  
A mental joke. He still could make them. He wasn't cracked beyond repair after all. What the hell. They could be just fine in a little while. They could get back in the car and drive until the tank was empty and then find someplace to stay and stay there forever and never come face to face with that which nearly destroyed them both ever again. They didn't need anyone or anything.  
  
It isn't our fight anymore.we've done our time.  
  
He still wished he'd had the chance to kill Sephiroth, but it was something he'd come to live with. Right now, he didn't feel the anger. He didn't want to slash his captor up in a homicidal rage. He didn't want revenge.  
  
I don't hate myself anymore.  
  
I don't really hate anything at all.  
  
It took nearly dying (again) to wake him up from what he'd become. He'd survived more than man was meant to survive, but he hadn't handled it well at all. He'd taken it out on himself and those around him. He hadn't been the best in the world at coping with post-traumatic stress.  
  
But it was okay now. He had a feeling that things would work out. They would move on, start over. Part of him wished he'd just met her minutes ago, yet he knew that there were some things about the past that not even he himself could change. Accepting it was something one needed to figure out on one's own.  
  
"Hey." he whispered, so as not to startle her, ".you all right?" She loosened her grip on him, wiping her eyes on his shirt. She lifted herself back a bit, looking up at him. They stared for a moment; then she sank back into his chest with a weak sigh.  
  
"You're a huge fucking jerk, you know that?" she mumbled, her cheek pressed against his collarbone.  
  
He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. She looked up.  
  
"But you're my jerk.okay?" It was almost like she was pleading with him.  
  
"Okay."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
The room went in and out of focus.  
  
The ceiling, floor, and walls were punching at him.  
  
The moonlight glinted off hair, lips, tongue.  
  
Wind from the open window cut through his hair, piercing the hot air around them.  
  
Their eyes glowed; pulsing in unison.  
  
Adrenaline rushed; like the fight of their lives.  
  
Everything was spinning; spiraling into a deathly sharp point.  
  
Bleak memories of addiction.they gradually stripped away.  
  
They had discovered a cure.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
The water was really cold.  
  
It rushed over his clothed body as he lay slumped in the open shower, growing less and less sleepy by the second. He blinked his eyes a few times, his vision clearing from the shock of the freezing blast. Still to groggy to move however, he could only turn his head lazily from side to side.  
  
She was standing by the sink, toothbrush in hand, fully dressed, looking halfheartedly into the mirror.  
  
"You.uh.what am I doing in here?" he rasped, startling her a little bit. She smiled after a second, taking the brush out of her mouth.  
  
"mmph eemmph ah-." she paused after realizing she still had toothpaste in there. Seconds later, she continued, with a giggle "sorry.just had to lead you in here to wake you up, which is near impossible. We need to get outta here before they realize we're in here."  
  
The fact that they'd never paid for the room dawned on him again. It was something he hadn't considered when they'd snuck in through the window the night before.  
  
"What time is it?" he asked. She checked her watch.  
  
"Just before five.it's a residential inn, they don't check rooms for housekeeping before eight, at least."  
  
"Why didn't we check in like normal people, again?"  
  
"We don't have money for that, dummy. We've only had enough for some food and your.you know." It hurt her to think of what had happened last evening at the train station. He could see it on her face.  
  
"Speaking of food." he murmured, changing the subject. Tiredness had just about left his being. She perked up.  
  
"If we get outta here without the people that run this place noticing, then we still have enough for breakfast and we have the car.and if we need more cash, then I can.improvise."  
  
He grabbed the stall shelf and pulled himself to his feet, clothes and hair dripping with chilled water.  
  
"You mean you can pick some poor guy's pocket?" He said, leaning forward toward her.  
  
"Oh, he probably deserves it. Besides, we saved the world. To the winner the spoils." She gloated, returning his lean, their faces quite close. He sighed wistfully with a smirk.  
  
"So this is ninja love, eh?"  
  
"You got it." She said, beaming, leaning closer still.  
  
"Great.so, what do I do about these clothes?" He looked down at his black Yakuza get up.complete with bullet hole in midsection area.  
  
"Ah, we'll grab you something to wear before we leave, come on, it's just water." She said. He grinned.  
  
"Cool, so you can join me then." And he grabbed her around her body and yanked her back toward him before she could move away.  
  
"Hey! I didn't say.what the fuck, let me out!" She flailed like a cat in a swimming pool. He laughed hysterically.  
  
"Come on, it's just water!" He mimicked her, over and over, until she stopped squirming and accepted the clammy hug under the spray.  
  
"You are a jerk." she muttered.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
The little café was cozy enough; one middle-aged waitress tended to the customers while the morning news murmured on a black and white television screen in the corner of the room. Checkered tablecloths quaintly adorned the tables with a rural ambiance. It was a nice place, they concluded.  
  
"Know why this breakfast is so good?" He said to her between chewing his eggs and drinking his orange juice.  
  
"Why's that?" She asked over her stack of pancakes.  
  
"'Cause we're eating it on our own free will." He responded. They both chuckled.  
  
"Here's to independent thought, baby." She clinked her glass off his, setting it back down. By this time he'd nearly finished his meal, while she was still on her first of three cakes. He'd always eaten fast, he'd explained, it enabled him to eat more without getting full, which is why, he reasoned, he checked in at six-foot-four.  
  
"No Mako therapy, no psionically-induced slave labor." he went on.  
  
"No more zombie stuff." she continued.  
  
"No more acting like we don't notice each other."  
  
"No more fights."  
  
"Unless we feel like it."  
  
"Exactly." She grinned.  
  
"If he comes back we'll fuck him up, but hell, otherwise.we're done with this shit."  
  
"Yeah.I've just about had it."  
  
"Me too.ready to be normal."  
  
"Think we can be normal again?"  
  
"Well, I guess it depends on what you think normal is."  
  
"I mean, like." She trailed off, kind of frustrated and disappointed sounding for some reason.  
  
"Were we ever normal?" He posed the question, feeling a bit philosophical. She fell silent for a moment.  
  
"I guess not." she said, almost mournfully. He knew he was striking a nerve, but he didn't know enough about her to know where.  
  
"Well, I'm sure well figure something." he started to say, but her words interrupted him.  
  
"It's funny.all my life I've always been weird.kinda outcast. Me and my dad always fought, all the court nobles thought I was a loser.I knew they all wished I'd died and not my brother." She said, somberly, but still in control of her emotions. She looked him in the eye. "I guess I like what I do, making my own way, my own rules.but I really just want to belong somewhere, you know? I just wanna.have a normal life to come home to, you know?" He knew that they were both trying to avoid what happened at the train station last night. It was painful for her to say such words to him. She hadn't said them for as far back as she could remember.  
  
"It's strange.we look at our pasts to describe who we are. I grew up poor as hell. My dad died before I was old enough to understand anything. All the junk I made up about him was just stuff I'd tried to cover up the pain with. I'd say, oh, yeah, he was a great fighter, a great man, blah blah blah. I learned to fight just like him. Bullshit. All of it. I don't think my father ever even picked up a sword once. He was freaking farmer, for God's sake. I learned to fight cause I was pissed. I was pissed of at the world, pissed off at life. I knew this guy who made swords named Melichoir. I'd always hang around and ask him questions about warriors and swordsmen. One day I talked him into giving me one of his wooden long swords, you know, the kind that armored knights use? Yea, so he gave me one, but when he saw me try to use it, he told me I swung it with the fury of a Kensai. So you can assume the rest. He gave me a kendo, yeah, you know, a wooden katana. He drew up a few sword forms on scrolls for me and gave me some books on Bujistu.yeah.what they used to call unarmed combat back in the old days. Anyway, he musta felt sorry or something, cause he put all that time into the stuff he did for me for free. I couldn't have paid him.anyway.I guess what I'm trying to say is, I tried so hard to disguise what happened because I thought who I was depended on what my situation had been, but it turns out, now that I accept that, I'm cool with it. I wished things could've been different, but they turned out like they did and.now I'm having coffee and breakfast with a beautiful girl.I guess I'm doing okay, hm?" he concluded his speech.  
  
She sort of understood what he was trying to tell her. Stylistics weren't really that important at the moment. A smile touched her face after a pause.  
  
"Well if that's your logic, then, hey.I can live with that."  
  
"So don't worry about what happened in the past, we can do whatever we want now. You wanna be normal? Hey, we'll be as normal as cold cereal and milk." He reassured her, lightheartedly.  
  
"You wanna know something funny?" She asked, eagerly.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"I'm only half Wutaise." She said, like a schoolgirl sharing gossip.  
  
"Really? Didn't know that.guess I still don't know as much about this world as I should."  
  
"Yeah. My mom was a journalist from Midgar during the war. They met, and hit it off.then she died giving birth to me and my brother.my dad kinda always spited us for that.me especially cause I was the one she lost it with." she explained, a little uneasily.  
  
"Damn."  
  
"But, you know, I'm not embarrassed about it.not with you, at least." they were intimate words.  
  
"Don't be. You shouldn't be." He reassured. She nodded.  
  
"Last night was something, huh?" she blurted with a nervous laugh. His eyes widened a bit from the outburst.  
  
"Well, hey, sure.I mean, yes.hell yeah." He started out unsure, but then concluded with an awkward smile. They both laughed moments later.  
  
"Well then here's to many future last-night-like experiences." She toasted him again, bringing him to raise an eyebrow.  
  
"I thought we toasted to normalcy?"  
  
"That was my orange juice glass, silly. This is a coffee mug."  
  
"Oh.well then, by all means." he agreed.  
  
"Totally." They continued on with their breakfast after Crono ordered seconds, sparing their rapport for warm food.  
  
Until one of them happened to notice the small crowd standing in the corner, diligently watching the television screen.  
  
"What's so interesting that it could hold up the hostess, waitress, and cook in this town?" he wondered aloud.  
  
"Dunno.fire maybe? Crop prices falling?"  
  
Her assumption was immediately disproved upon the sight of brigades of armored infantry marching through the city streets of Midgar.  
  
"What in the hell.Yuffie, look at this." He unconsciously wiped his face off before standing up and walking over toward the crowded set.  
  
"Hold up, I'm coming."  
  
".five-thousand regiment under Five-Star General Blake.General?" the reporter asked.  
  
"We've taken the appropriate measures to secure the city from invasion from the forces of Guardia, formerly minions of Sephiroth himself. Our men are ready, willing, and capable to meet any challenge they may be met with."  
  
"Sir, have there been any plans made for a preemptive strike on the rival nation?"  
  
"Well, I cannot answer that in the interest of national security, but I can assure that all measures possible to ensure homeland security will be taken, preemptive or countermeasure."  
  
"Has there been any civilian resistance thus far?"  
  
"Well, naturally, and completely understandably, some were alarmed, but no real problems were faced during the initial occupation. However, it brings me great sadness to say that the man we'd counted on to help us most of all has had other ideas. Mr. Cloud Strife received an earnest plea for assistance this morning, and acted belligerently. When we tried to calm him, he.had an outburst of aggression. I know it sounds major, but it's most likely a product of his psychological instability over the years. Whatever the case, he did injure several men and is now in the process of being apprehended."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir.Cloud Strife? Are we speaking of the same man here?"  
  
"Yes, I'm in as much shock as you are. I hope we can get to the root of this terrible tragedy as soon as possible. He was a great man to have on our side."  
  
The denizens of the café stood in silence. Most couldn't believe it. Cloud? The local boy done good? The savior of the planet? AWOL?  
  
Yuffie touched Crono's shoulder.  
  
"I can't believe this." she said, in a hollow voice. He didn't hear her.  
  
You can't go back, Crono.  
  
You promised it was over.  
  
You promised her.  
  
You promised yourself.  
  
It's not your fight.  
  
You did your time.  
  
You can't go back.  
  
You can't.  
  
He looked at her, in all sincerity. He opened his mouth to tell her the inevitable.  
  
"I know." she said.  
  
"I have to. I owe him.my life."  
  
"We have to."  
  
"No, you can't. It's too."  
  
"Bullshit. You promised we'd stay together."  
  
"But this is different."  
  
"No it's not. If anything bad happens to you, then it's gonna happen to me, too."  
  
"Yuffie, I couldn't forgive myself if you."  
  
"I can handle myself. You know that. And you're not the only one who owes Cloud." He couldn't argue with her. As much as he had his doubts, she was going, whether he liked it or not. He'd promised her, after all.  
  
"There's some gear at the mansion we can use.then we can probably hop a ferry back to Midgar."  
  
"That'll take days. We need something faster."  
  
"There.is that helicopter on the mountain."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------  
  
He braced her with one hand on each arm as she cried silently, looking down at the still bodies of her former friends. Then, at last, he turned away. Some things you just needed to be left in silence to cope with.  
  
It wasn't fair. Shio and Mia were two kids, just like them, only younger, less involved, bearing more of a future, dead on slabs. For what? He couldn't answer that. Such was the nature of unfairness.  
  
They had to move quickly. There was no telling what Cloud and the others' situations were, but one thing was for sure: wasted time would be deadly. He swiftly moved through the equipment piles, designating the essential and discarding the auxiliary. Climbing harnesses were extremely useful for both climbing treacherous things and economically storing equipment. They were like full-body utility belts.  
  
He armed light but efficient. Two low-density handguns slid into the holsters at his thighs. He slung Chi/Shio's sleek, compact submachine gun over his shoulder, letting it almost conceal itself below his arm, and fastening it to his chest. He clipped his belt harness nearly full of 9mm magazines. One could carry too many guns, but one could never have enough ammunition. The last compartment he used for a roll of medical tape. It seemed feeble, but it prevented further horrendous ripping in whatever wounds he might receive.  
  
Finally, came the last piece of his arsenal. He gently removed a sharkskin- gripped titanium katana from the shelf in the makeshift training hall. It wasn't his prismatic blade, but it was a damned good piece of workmanship. He hadn't touched a sword in weeks. A few strokes and stances got the rust out of his joints, however, and he soon tied it to his belt in its scabbard, blade facing up, as all traditional katana were worn.  
  
He passed a mirror on the way out of the hall. In reality, it was a one- way window to the study on the other side, but all he saw at the moment was the man staring back at him.  
  
The top half of his black mesh bodysuit looked like a normal piece of clothing, and the bottom was covered by his loose, flowing tan pants. His hair somewhat grown in, his headband fixed on his forehead, he looked like a hybrid of two different worlds. Part warrior, part assassin. Part traditional, part chillingly cutting edge. It was fitting, he decided. It was the best self-analysis he'd given yet.  
  
When he returned, he found both bodies covered. Yuffie was suiting up as well, fighting to keep herself composed. She wasn't doing too bad. Most of the girls he'd known wouldn't have been able to get themselves together so quickly. Frivolous as she could be, she was equally tough.  
  
In silence they headed out toward the staircase, only stopping once.  
  
They looked wordlessly upon the woman in the capsule by the stairs. Her brown hair swung in gravity-free motions. Her limbs hung limply. She looked deathly deprived, but still peaceful.  
  
"I could break her out." he said, monotone.  
  
"She'd die.you have to be taken out slowly.we don't have any of the activation codes.he said something about time-release, but he was babbling about it happening in the Hour of Revolution or some shit. We'll get her out though. We just."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Let's do this." They bowed their heads in sad respect, and started up the stairs.  
  
In their hurries, they'd failed notice the small LCD screen on the side of the capsule near the wall. It read:  
  
23:35:15.  
  
23:35:14.  
  
23:35:13.  
  
23:35:12.  
  
THE END  
Part Twenty-Five 


	26. Sephirodammerung

**ADVERSARY**

_Guardia Castle, 1005 A.D._

It was around eleven o' clock on Saturday that Sephiroth realized he was quite possibly the most accomplished man in the history of mankind. Staring through the arched castle window, from the room he'd conned a monarch into giving him, he could see far out on to the horizon. Thousands of dark shapes loomed in the distance, advancing at a steady pace.

His privately owned ambush was arriving. In hours, the entire kingdom would near-completely razed to the soil it was built upon. The Midgar army would then begin occupation, horrifying the helpless, technologically backward citizens of Guardia. However, before all was lost for the Guardians, Sephiroth himself would appear, calling all the magical holy hell that existed within the plane of Guardia's world against Blake's armies. Forcing a retreat, He'd once again have his might to hang over the heads of the Midgar people whom he so detested. Peace negotiations would open between he and the Midgar Heads of State: his two sons. It was what you'd call a "win-win" situation.

His two sons he'd fathered with a woman whom he'd personally murdered only a few years beforehand. She was "snow-white" in spirit, and as pure as they come. She hated him under all possible normal circumstances.

Fortunately, he had the means to bring about the "abnormal."

It was more a mastery of human psychology than sorcery, he'd reckoned, recalling their relationship over the past twenty years. Like all the other once-individualistic zombies that had followed him through the SOLDIER program, she too fell prey to his genius, his cunning. A mind could be molded like a substance more supple than craftsman's clay, with the right approach.

He on the verge of having everything, once again. The only thing that stood between him and infinity was a few "heroes" lead by two spiky-haired sword-wavers. When he broke it down that way, it seemed like a simple task. He liked simplification.

Granted, they had furious potential if aimed in the right direction. However, he'd spend the last year sowing seeds of distrust amongst them all. He'd kidnapped the ninja girl, made her believe she'd assassinated her sword master boyfriend, and then reunited them under the guise of belonging to an assassin clan that periodically harassed Cloud Strife and company.

He would have liked to have permanently held a Mako-infused Crono and Yuffie under his control, but they managed to wriggle out of his grasp, he'd learned.

_Oh well...what can you expect from mere humans..._

It was no big deal. He'd cheated, conned, and overborne his way to this point, and nothing logically could stop him. Last time he'd tried this, he'd been too single-minded on his goal of bringing down the humans. This time, he had a plan.

Wherever the two had run off to, it mattered not. Cloud Strife was actively being pursued by the Midgar Special Tactics Team, and his wife and friends were somewhere in the city, in the friendly acquaintance of the one known as Leon Alazane.

Leon Alazane was a mild-mannered, cool-headed, laid-back, slacked-off, fun-loving individual. Leon Alazane was a trusted guy who shared the compassion of the entire Avalanche gang. Leon Alazane was also a walking weapon.

A multi-million-dollar, Hojo-crafted, walking weapon with directives to kill members of Avalanche at precise moments.

He seemed absolutely harmless, which is what made him so deadly. For all he knew, he was living proof of the miracle of modern medicine. A young boy brutally injured in an explosion on the streets of Midgar, his impoverished parents were wholly unable to pay for any kind of medical treatment. He remained without hands and nearly paralyzed for months until a scientist from the ShinRa arrived at the door to their slum apartment, and made them an offer that seemed like a godsend.

While Leon was being "treated" for his injuries, Hojo was desperately trying to create his own version of the Ancient's "Weapons". Skin reinforced with metallic plating, cybernetic joints, and an automated self-maintenance system made Leon an instant killing machine, should the Doctor so prescribe it. However, Hojo was laid to waste with his other creations, and Leon walked the streets, free and clueless.

Unfortunately, Sephiroth scoured Hojo's musings about his laboratory work. Most of it had been deemed "useless", yet the "Leon Project" had caught his attention.

_Useful...useful indeed..._

The scattered nature of his opponents, mixed with the knowledge that a friend amongst them could strike at any time he pleased was more than just a confidence booster. To Sephiroth, it was all the proof he needed to know that he was ultimately invincible. Things just needed to play out as planned.

He'd been in the background the whole time. Watching. Waiting. Calculating. The enemy, Sephiroth, was a mastermind, no doubt, yet so was he. In the shadow of the in-fighting, the passion, the conspiracy, the actions of his "allies" in the foreground, he'd been taking a different approach. For him, the answers were not uncovered with swordplay, with heroics. There was no feat of strength or courage which could jam the gears that were turning Sephiroth's plot more and more into reality.

The answers whispered upon the Black Wind.

Sephiroth was pulling one over on everyone. He was creating a reality so far-fetched and nonsensical that the heroes who once were faced with straightforward dilemmas involving monsters and the apocalypse and so on, were nearly powerless to stop it. However, Magus was no ordinary heroic type. He'd been in Sephiroth's place. He'd schemed and deceived with the best of them. He knew how Sephiroth saw things, where he'd lead the situation.

The others couldn't understand, so he stayed away. Away from her as well.

It pained him to shut her out. She was an intellectual, after all. However, she was much too close to Crono and her friends to understand his own "hands-off" approach to Sephiroth's plan. Her brilliant mind was clouded with loyalty and emotion. He supposed it was why he admired her so. He also knew it was why they ultimately might never be able to be together.

He was nearly devoid of emotion, therefore he could see Sephiroth's actions as they were: a series of ruses and ploys designed to spark massive immediate action from the heroes, weakening and disabling them, one by one. He knew that had they all laid low for the entire time the two planes of existence had been crossed over, it would not have made Sephiroth any stronger; it would have given them a competitive edge.

He couldn't even fathom the difficulty entailed in creating a magical formula so advanced it could rip holes in the fabric of the universe and reposition them in precise locations. Sephiroth, it was rumored, was advanced enough to lure the births of stars into the planet's atmosphere to use them as colossal weaponry against his foes.

He was a challenge, to say the least.

However, Magus knew that he himself was no slouch in combat. He was the proud member of a magically-enlightened dynasty. He had faced a force so great it threatened the existence of the earth, and come out on top. Most of all, Sephiroth didn't know he existed. Magus could feel Sephiroth's disturbance on the winds for months beforehand. Sephiroth had no such abilities.

He would spring from the shadows in Sephiroth's finest hour. He would show the man what true darkness really was.

A smile played across Sephiroth's shadowed face as he watched the final ranks of the Midgar forces close in upon the forests surrounding the castle. They were decked out with rockets, automatic personal firearms, and off-road assault vehicles.

Inside the castle, the soldiers and officials scrambled in befuddled horror. They searched desperately for the man they'd enlisted to bring down their former champion, the man who'd conned them into handing over scores of wealth and power in times of need. He'd made sure he was nowhere to be seen, until the proper time.

In a sedated state of calmness, like a professional athlete before an event, he reflected inwardly about the immediate future. It was to be glorious. He would descend from the heavens in the moment of truth, beating back the terror-stricken Midgar soldiers, winning over the people of Guardia one hundred ten percent.

The opening shots were fired. Stone fragments mixed with blood sprayed within the castle walls as the first "warm-up" volley of assault weaponry was cast upon them. Their stationed vehicles setting up a perimeter, the soldiers rushed the forest in teams of four. The guards along the walls immediately fell back to the inside.

The Knight Captain shuddered as he stood, lead-footed before the main door, which had just been braced against charge. In a roaring flash, a rocket-propelled explosive burst it open. Several yards behind it, a two-by-two tactics team advanced up the steps, spattering three-round bursts in the Captain's direction from their rifles.

He had every opportunity in the world to run, to return to his men and organize whatever counteroffensive was possible, yet he stayed fixed as they pressed forward, death on eight legs.

Stone faced, he drew his longsword, marching toward the door. He was determined to look them in the face, to let them know whose people they were trampling over.

The first burst caught him in the right shoulder, passing through his gilded plate armor as if it were nonexistent. The second landed in his side, searing through a piece of his lung. A sucking wound in his chest, he drew closer, just feet away from the awestruck enemy soldiers. Another burst landed in his side, finally bringing a groan from his pursed lips. They stopped firing. He could never reach them in time.

"Drop your weapon." The man in front demanded. The Captain gazed up from his wounded body and into the man's eyes. His bewildered eyes, brimming with inner conflict.

"You don't even know what you're doing, do you?" The Captain scoffed in a low voice.

"Drop your weapon!" He shouted, a rocket-bearing soldier advancing from the rear as cover.

"Gods save us all..." the Captain whispered, eyes fixed upon the rocket man. With a sweeping throw, he cast his sword, end over end toward the rocketeer. It caught him, flatfooted, in the chest. His cries of shocked mortal pain were outscreamed by the waves of bullets that blazed into the Knight Captain. Both men hit the ground almost at the same time.

The remaining four did not exchange glances. As if no encounter had taken place, they moved to the next room.

It was only minutes to showtime. He listened to the progress of the fray from within the walls of a hidden chamber in one of the castle's old towers. The people of Guardia were undergoing heavier and swifter losses than he'd predicted. He'd have to step in quicker than he'd planned. It really didn't matter that much, anyhow. He'd play the savior just the same.

With a deep breath, he moved from his position at the window. There was a bit of a storm brewing in the distance, over near Midgar. He smirked, figuring it'd help wash away the mess that was yet to be made on the castle grounds.

He opened the door to the long, stone catwalk between the adjoining tower and the main castle spire. Stepping out onto the brick-railed walkway, he was met with a cold, dry wind that blew directly toward him, chilling through his thick leather overcoat. His facial expression changed from one of arrogance to one of malcontent as he plodded to the door opposite him. Buckling the overcoat's belt and removing the locking pins from the Masamune's scabbard, he reached for the large brass ring handle, swinging the door open with much more force than intended.

In the darkness of the stairwell, two red pupils stared back at him. His pale green eyes narrowed in angered shock before closing completely as he was lifted off his feet and thrown backward across the bridge. Numb enervations spread throughout him as he skid in reverse, scraping his back along the cobblestone. With a furious grimace, he stood up.

His gothic opponent emerged from the doorway with a malicious smile, a replica of Death's Reaper held slack in hand. A moment passed. While Sephiroth had not known of Magus' direct relation to his plan, he'd been unable to escape the sense of incredible magical might that moved within him and the planes he walked. Sephiroth felt like he'd been slipped the answer to a puzzling riddle that had been itching at the back of his mind for months.

"So, this is it." Sephiroth stated, matter-of-factly. Magus raised an eyebrow.

"I don't even get a 'who the fuck are you?'"

"I guess not." Sephiroth mused, looking down at the firefight in the castle below. Magus laughed in appreciation for the man's casualness.

"You know, if you weren't such a sociopathic dick, we probably could have hit it off real well."

"One of life's great tragedies." The silver-haired man nodded solemnly with false disappointment. He quickly followed up his quip without missing a beat, demanding, "Get out of my way." Magus sighed and shook his head.

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen."

"Then you can forever be remembered as a temporary setback." Sephiroth slid the blade out of its long sheath, holding it behind his back, ready to swing out at the bat of an eye. It was then he advanced toward his opponent across the catwalk, one hand outstretched like a shield.

_A shield, indeed..._

Magus noted, far too experienced to fall for Sephiroth's seemingly harmless gesture. Offensive magic was not going to be effective in this instant. He had to try his luck in the physical sense. He swirled round with his cape following him, wheeling the scythe in an arch toward Sephiroth's midsection.

A narrow miss. Sephiroth countered with an overhead slash, blocked properly with the haft of the scythe, like a hockey player's cross-check. Both men pushed against each other, weapons locked. Of nearly equal sheer physical strength, they quickly stalemated, Sephiroth ducking back, turning and resuming his guard, both hands bracing the long, wicked blade held full out before him. A mistake.

With a blast of lightning, Magus hurled him back into the wall of the opposite tower where Sephiroth had waited, scheming, moments before. Dazed, but still maintaining a spiteful smile, he returned to a standing position.

"No great balls of fire? I'd sure expected some of those."

"Nope. I did my research. Those don't work to well on you, apparently."

"No. No, they don't." He readied the sword, coming back at him just as before.

"You've got to be the dumbest evil genius I've ever known." Magus noted, ready to take him down as promptly as the last two times.

Suddenly, Sephiroth was no longer in front of him.

_Shit..._

It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, and Magus fell right into it. By the time he turned, startled, to face his enemy behind him, all he could accomplish was to expose the more vital front of his torso to the blade which lashed into him.

"Sticks and stones." Sephiroth murmured, drawing the blade out of Magus' ribs, bringing a horrified gasp from the wizard. He watched him stagger back, clutching his weapon and the railing for support, looking about in perfectly enraged disbelief. An effortless follow-up could have ended him right then and there.

_He's letting me "suffer"...well, fuck him then..._

"So what's your master plan, Sephiroth?" He asked, condescendingly, as blood poured from his open wound. "Smash some planets together, then crush the shit out of them all because you were never good enough for mommy and daddy? Is that what this is?" Sephiroth's pleased expression did not falter.

"You are dying, my friend." Magus shrugged.

"Yeah, we all go sooner or later, even you. Even you."

"I wouldn't count on that." He continued, watching Magus break away from the wall on his own two feet, walking slowly.

"Really? Just like you're going to save this castle from the invasion _you_ started?"

"Just like that."

Magus laughed at him, spiting the pain. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. The catwalks began to shake, along with the walls holding it up, and the towers it bridged. The soldiers below began to panic.

"What the hell's this?" Sephiroth demanded, no longer amused. Magus crowed with laughter.

"You know, big guy, you might be real a tech-savvy badass, but _I _am a fucking _wizard_."

"You are going to die."

"Yeah. But so are you." Magus drew back the scythe, instantly bringing up Sephiroth's guard against the blow.

_You aren't the only tricky one..._

Magus did not swing full force. He did not swing at all. He dropped his windup and speared Sephiroth in his bare chest with the handle of his weapon. One, two, three shots landed before Sephiroth warded it off.

"That's a few ribs right back at you." Magus informed his enraged enemy.

_I've still got it after all..._

He noted, confidence returning. Until the bridge shook him from his weakened feet.

He crashed down before Sephiroth, whom jumped to avoid a tremor and some falling rock. The silver-haired giant smiled a smile of genuine evil satisfaction.

Magus gasped as the sword took him in the side, turning him full over and pinning him against the wall as the blade advanced through him slowly. His eyes widened with a blank craze. Sephiroth sighed.

"You see it." He said. "You are blessed with the gift of foresight, moreso than I. See, I didn't know you were coming. I knew you existed, but never expected you to show up _now_ of all times."

Pieces of the stone walls fell dangerously ever more close to them.

"The Strife family is going to be annihilated. All of your allies are going to fall, Magus. Especially the one called Crono. He is to die at the lips of the very same blade that is killing you right now."

"He's stronger than you could ever be, fucking mama's boy." Magus hissed, pushing the blade deep out of his back and side. With a kick he threw Sephiroth into the opposite railing.

He needed to stand up and fight back, but he couldn't. He was nearly split in half.

"You're only making it worse." Sephiroth informed him. Magus stared him down.

"Fuck. You." There was no breaking him. At least not emotionally.

"You were an interesting temporary setback, my friend." Sephiroth raised the blade. Then Magus knew what he had to do.

_It's suicide..._

The Masamune cleaved into his collarbone.

_Like those Samurai types Crono so admires..._

Sephiroth's eyes gleamed, intently watching the blade sink into the flesh.

_Well Crono...this is for you, kid..._

He roared in determination, startling Sephiroth from his killer's high. The scythe reaped Sephiroth's legs out from beneath him, hurling him over the railing, smashing through the stained glass window below.

_A three hundred foot drop...you like that?_

Magus collapsed back against the low wall, cracks forming in the catwalk. His vision was blurring.

_Not yet...you're not done yet..._

With his good arm he dragged himself through the doorway to the isolated chamber, and turned, blasting energy through the remains of the catwalk, demolishing it completely. With a deafening crush, the huge cubes of stone hurtled downward through the remains of the window, into the Great Hall.

_Four hundred years ago, I failed to take this castle...you sure as shit are not going to do it now..._

Whether or not Sephiroth ultimately survived the fall was not Magus' main concern. He, for once, needed to put utmost faith in the abilities of his human friends.

_Friends?_

_Yes...they are my friends...especially..._

He would miss her the most. But their previous goodbye would not be their last.

He had one more fight left in him.

**THE END**

Part Twenty-Six


	27. The Countdown

**ADVERSARY**

_Guardia, 1005 A.D._

It was just like it had happened months earlier. She stepped out of her house, shutting the door gingerly so as not to disturb anyone within. The icy winter air swirling around her in light gusts, she stepped softly through her front yard around to the side of her house, where she would find him, standing with his back to her, long hair blowing in the breeze.

They had been keeping this routine up for months. Literally worlds apart from each other, it was only in dreams that they could meet; a simple feat for a man such as himself, yet a wondrous experience for a young intellectual such as herself. It was intoxicating and intense for the time it lasted, yet she always woke up alone, feeling somewhat deprived, in the morning.

Only, this time, it was different.

His image was faint. Barely there. He faced her directly, many of his features indistinguishable. His usual aura of mystery broken, he presented himself without formality.

"What's going on?" She asked, crossing her arms. He'd pulled many "stunts" lately in which he managed to stay far away without contact for weeks at a time. In the midst of all the surrounding crises, she didn't appreciate his abandonment of her.

"Lucca." He said in a hushed voice. "Come over here."

"Not 'till you explain yourself."

"I will, I promise. Please, just come here." She looked at him skeptically, but heeded his earnest request, nevertheless. He made no motion toward her. Within inches of touching him, she paused.

"I can hardly see you..." she observed. He smiled, sadly. She took one final step, reached out to him, and gasped.

He felt like sand. He felt like a loosely held together sandcastle. She jerked back from him, staring in horror.

"What's happening, Magus? What happened to you?" Her voice rising, frantically. He shook his head, with a weak smile.

"Shhh, don't wake up your parents." Her face reddened with confusion.

"What did you do...?" she whispered, weakly desperate.

"Probably something I shouldn't have done. But that doesn't really matter at this point."

"What are you saying? Please, what happened to you?"

"I don't know if I stopped him. That's not important. He won't take your hometown from you. I had to make sure of that."

"My god, Magus..."

"I had to, Lucca. You'll need your family to look after you when this is all over."

"Don't talk like that. Don't talk like you won't be around." She scolded him. "We're gonna get through this, okay? Together." He smiled wider, eyes drooping.

"I'm sorry you got mixed up with the likes of me. It'll be better off this way...just..."

"Do _not_ talk like that. You are _not_ giving up on me, Magus, God dammit. You hear me?" She cursed through clenched teeth, steaming streams running down her cheeks. He touched her face with a gloved hand.

"Promise me you'll never let anyone push you around...just stay exactly how you are. Stay unforgettable." She couldn't reply. She was swallowing silent cries that never reached her lips. He frowned.

"You need to do one last thing for me. I need to know you're listening because there's not much time. Just one last thing, okay?" She looked up at him, her entire body shaking.

"Okay." She whispered.

Cid Highwind cursed under his breath as he paced around the floor of his apartment. Seconds ago, he'd caught a newsreel clip of live pursuit of Cloud Strife through the sewers below Midgar. Every policeman, guard, and soldier in the city was looking for him, and the man had few places to go. The streets were locked down. No one was allowed outside under any conditions until further notice.

Cid knew something was wrong. Someone was screwing with the Midgar brass and getting away with murder, but in his current situation, alone in his locked-down house, there was little he could do to alter it.

Think...you need to fuckin' think... 

There _had_ to be _something_ he could do. Cloud needed help, for once. If only Cid could get in touch with the others...but Tifa wasn't answering her phone.

Bastards probably have his family hostage or some shit... 

He knew it was all up to him, but he was caught between a rock and a hard place at the moment, sighting the ten-man squad racing down the block outside the window.

They're all over this place...something must have just set 'em off... 

Sure enough, there indeed _was_ something that set them off. Just up the street, a patrol truck had suddenly and inexplicably burst into flames from within. Cid could barely see them rushing to surround the wreckage down the street.

The bizarre spectacle grabbed so much of his attention, that he jumped full around to face the door when the frantic staccato knocks rang out. He rapidly looked this way and that for a quick improvised weapon. A desk chair would have to do, he decided.

"Who's there?" He demanded in a guttural command.

"It's Lucca. Cid, open the door!" She called from the other side, still hammering away. Puzzled, but still edgy, he made his way to the door.

Could be a setup... 

Trading off the chair for a kitchen knife held behind his back, he slowly opened the door. Alone and in an incredibly hurry, the burgundy-haired scientist pushed him back into the room, closing and locking the door, once again.

"How the hell did you get here? There's guards every-"

"No time." She said, gravely, "We really need to hurry."

"Hurry where? Can you calm down half a second and explain yourself?"

"No!" She shouted. He pursed his lips.

Women are impossible... 

"Look, I need to know what we're hurrying about. I can't just _hurry _in general..."

"We need to get a Helicopter so you can fly us to Nibelheim. Right now." Cid laughed in shock.

"Honey, we'd be lucky to get a remote controlled car under these conditions. Take two. How the hell did you even get here?" He said, turning to watch her frantically pace about the room. She turned on her heel, and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, absolute seriousness in her eyes.

"A woman named Aeris is going to die in a matter of hours if we don't get to her in time, Cid. We need to get to Nibelheim so I can override her time release from Stasis. If the timer runs out, she'll be taken off life support without regaining consciousness, and..."

"Woah! Jesus, kid. You're saying Aeris is actually out there?"

"Yes, and she's going to suffocate in a bulletproof container if we don't get her out!"

"Fuck...that's great...just us, huh?"

"Shit, that's another thing. We need to call Tifa and warn her..."

"No one at the house answers the goddamn phone. Why, what do you know that I don't?"

"That guy Leon, he's some kind of plant. He's really a cybernetic assassin thing. I...can't explain it to you, but...shit, Cid. One of us has to go over there, then. He could snap on Tifa any minute." Cid rubbed his eyes.

This is too much at once...I'm getting too old for this shit... 

"Cid? We need to go! I'll make my way to the Strife house. You gotta go to Nibelheim though. You've only got three hours."

"Shit..." He pounded the countertop in his kitchen, looking out the window. "Lucca, how the fuck am I supposed to dick around with the machine she's in anyway? I'm mechanically inclined, not a computer whiz. I could break it and she might..." She looked down.

"Cid, I can't fly a helicopter at all. You...you can call me and I'll talk you through what to do..."

"That's the best you can come up with?"

"Cid!" She said through ground teeth, her eyes tearing up. "We _need_ to do this! Please, Cid..."

"Kid, I'm a pilot...what do you want from me?"

"Magus went out without telling _anyone_ and he took on Sephiroth one-on-one, and he's fucking _dead_ now!!" She screamed at him. The Pilot was stunned nearly speechless.

"Kid, I..."

"He died for us, Cid! We _can't_ sit around now...even if we don't make it...please, Cid. Please do this for him..." She mumbled, wiping her eyes.

_This is a really fucking bad idea..._

He hated the situation, but she needed someone to believe in. He could see it in her face.

"Get on out of here then." He said, turning and walking down the hall to his bedroom.

"What?"

"It's a long way to Cloud's house. Get a move on if you want to make it in time." Despite the pain inside she was experiencing, she forced an optimistic smile, picking her head up, opening her mouth to speak, quickly interrupted.

"Don't thank me. I'm doing my job. And don't wish me luck either. I'm the best god damn pilot in the world. The last thing I need now is luck. Get going." He went into to his room and began rummaging through equipment.

"Thank you, Cid..." she whispered, heading for the door.

From high above Nibelheim, Cid felt a flood of memories rushing back to him. A little over five years ago, he'd been flying this way and that, charting the Avalanche crew across the world at their most trivial whim. Not a day went buy without several hours behind the wheel of the Highwind. God, he missed that ship like a lost love.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had not been to this city since the time of the first crusade against Sephiroth. Now, he was flying back in on official business, out of practice and under perhaps more pressure than he'd ever been, alone and pretty well unprepared.

The stolen attack chopper was at least decently maneuverable, he concluded, as he increased in altitude, bringing it up to the unoccupied landing pad on the cliff compound above the ShinRa mansion.

I freaking hate this place... 

The ShinRa mansion was undoubtedly one of the most unpleasant facilities he'd ever had the privilege of touring. Now he was heading in solo, without the blonde with the huge blade or the tricky ninja kid.

He slung his spear over his arm as he jumped down from the pilot's seat onto the landing pad, barely waiting for the motor to cease. He kept a steady jog, like the runway traffic guys from the old days, as he descended through the cave facility, steering clear of the room where the confrontation between Cloud, Zack and Sephiroth took place some nine years ago.

The whole factory oozed with mystery, bringing back those puzzling questions that often brought phone calls from Cloud in the middle of the night.

"Cid...I think I remembered some more about what happened that night..." 

"_It was Zack, Cid...Zack broke us out..."_

"_He stabbed me, Cid...but...I was able to get control of the sword..."_

What actually took place between those three mysteriously connected men long ago was a conundrum Cid doubted ever could be decoded.

"_Whatever happened to you guys, you proved you could hack it, and that's all that really matters."_

Cid would always tell him. Somehow, it didn't ever seem good enough for Cloud, but who could blame him?

_Wish you were here, buddy..._

As he pushed through the bookshelf that lead into the library and ultimately the cellar, his heart began to beat faster. Advancing through the dark, stone and dirt catacombs, he could see the haunting soft green light of the stasis chambers flickering off the walls. He was close.

He gripped the PCS phone in his pocket, ready to dial Lucca's number on the fly once he came across the machine he was supposed to miraculously disable. When he rounded the corner, he ground down with his jaw.

Aeris Gainsborough was floating before him, locked within several-inch-thick glass, bathed in green light. Her muscles relaxed and atrophied, arms dangling at her sides, she looked sadly beautiful, strands of hair floating this way and that.

"I'm here...I'm here for you, kid..." He said under his breath, fumbling to get the phone open. He dialed her extension number. As he waited for a signal, he observed the terribly complex looking input console at the base of the stasis tube.

Come on, pick up... 

The phone started ringing.

Finally...hurry up, now... 

The signal faded.

Shit...shit, shit...gotta move... 

He paced around randomly for a better signal down deep in the basement. He stopped. He heard a female voice on the other end.

"Hello? Lucca, it's Cid. Hello? Do you hear me?" He shouted into the receiver. His voice rose so loud that he was oblivious to the footsteps behind him.

"Ugh!!! Fuckin' A!" The phone smashed into pieces against the side of Cid's head as a thin blunt object struck him in the temple area. He bent down to shake off some of the force, but his ear was ringing like a schoolbell.

Pick your fucking head up, Cid...pick your head up! 

He did, spinning around in a circle to catch a glimpse of his assailant, while unslinging his spear. As he refocused and defensively retreated a few steps, he could recognize the face that no Avalanche associate could have ever imagined or forgotten. Elianor, the ambiguous mix of Sephiroth and Aeris. The younger, more pensive one whom Cid had tangled with before, under more favorable circumstances.

"You are an intruder." He said, firm, yet hushed. Cid pointed his spear at his staff-wielding opponent.

"Listen, you. You may have well just fucked your mother's only possible chance of surviving this shit. You need to back the fuck off before you get killed, because I can't afford to go easy on you this time." Cid demanded, desperately. Elianor tightened his grip on the staff.

"I have learned much since our last meeting. You were right about my previous lack of skill."

_Shit...this is not going well..._

"I don't have time to fight you right now. Your mother is going to die if I don't get her out of there." Elianor's delicate-looking face tremored, then fell somewhere between focus and anger.

"Father has taken care of everything. She's in good hands." He said, as if he were reassuring himself.

"Kid, your father is a shitheaded maniac. He's going to kill her. She's the one you need to be loyal to, not him. Now's not the time to bond with good old Dad, okay? You need to help her by letting me take care of this." The youth was silent.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I have a duty to fulfill." He finally insisted. Cid couldn't wait any longer. In a flash he was at him, jabbing straight toward Elianor's stomach. The younger son twisted out of the way, stepping to the side and swinging the entire length of the staff down over his head, both hands at one end.

With a grunt Cid hit the ground, looking up with a bloodied nose in disbelief at the surprisingly focused youth above him.

"Get up, Highwind." He ordered, stepping back to allow room.

"Don't you pull this chivalry crap on me, bitch." Cid hissed, standing up. He uneasily looked through "fanblade" effect that Elianor was creating with his staff. It was worth a gamble. The pilot man feinted toward the middle, than stabbed toward the face, lunging forward...

...Completely past his opponent. Elianor kicked him in the side as he flew by. When Cid turned around, he was clearly unamused.

Okay, so you have gotten better...just a bit... 

He reversed his spear, handle jabs met with hard blocks from Elianor's staff. He watched the confidence build as the youth reflexively slapped the strikes aside, ready to counterattack powerfully at any moment...

...Which Cid never gave him. Instead of continuing the exchange, he ducked down and stabbed clear through Elianor's foot, pinning it to the floor. The youth cried out in rage, throwing a poorly timed haymaker swing toward Cid, who's longer weapon reach held the advantage.

"Don't do this, kid." He warned him as he struggled to keep him pinned. Elianor wildly fought back, arms swinging, legs shaking. Then he stopped, suddenly calm.

"Fine." He said, quietly, casting down his staff. Cid held firm.

"You need to tell me what the access code is for this stasis tube, right now." Elianor, cool as ever, shook his head in refusal. Cid started to grow furious, once again. "What the fuck was not clear about what I just said? Give me the god damn code."

"Get that spear out of my foot and step back, Highwind." Cid was now officially furious.

"Fuck you and your shitty pride. Give me the code before this goes in your skull." And with that, Elianor hesitated, shrugged, then reached into his pocket. He did not pull out a piece of paper with a code on it.

It was a handgun.

Cid flinched as the haft of his spear splintered into pieces as the bullets spewed through it. He backpedaled, completely shocked, the harmlessly broken pieces of wood falling from his hands.

The shots did not stop.

Cid doubled over as he took a hit in the stomach, the burning sensation of the bullet ringing through him. He groaned and collapsed on his side as another struck the surface of his temple, his head raging with pain.

Fuck...no... 

He lifted his shaking head up, blood pouring into his eyes and hands.

"What the hell are you _doing_?!" He whispered, staring directly into the barrel. Elianor raised an eyebrow.

"Eliminating a threat."

"_Fuck_ your military talk. Look at your mother. Look at your mother _right fucking there _in the tube. She's going to die, asshole." He raged. Elianor jabbed the gun at the critically wounded pilot.

"You shut the hell up."

"You'd better look at her, you fucking coward. You're a piece of shit, you know that?" And then, "You're not even man enough to be called Sephiroth's son. He had some fucking balls, not like you, you little _bitch_." Cid struggled his way to his feet. Elianor kept the gun in his face, quite rattled.

"I told you to shut up." He mumbled, hands shaking. The confidence was gone. The reflexes might have gone with it.

Gotta take a chance...gonna die, otherwise... 

Cid lunged forward, ducking to the side of the gun, grabbing Elianor around the waist. They hit down in a tangle, the pilot pushing the gun away from the two of them, a shot sailing high into the ceiling in the struggle. Elianor reached up to Cid's throat with his free hand, squeezing his Adam's apple between his thumb and the knuckle of his middle finger. The airflow to his chest sealed off. He couldn't breathe. He had to do the only thing he could do. He reached back and slammed his fist into his enemy's eye, Elianor's face twisting toward the floor with the force. The grip on Cid's throat jerked, but did not release.

Cid drew back further, and struck even harder, his other hand still keeping the gun out of the tangle. Again he hit him, his own lungs burning with suffocation. His blows quickened as his eyes began to pulse with the blood trapped above his neck. His vision left him. He kept on pounding, his mind exploding with white light.

The raw rush of air once again through his nearly crushed throat hurt worse than any strangulation he'd been fighting through. He choked in excruciating pain, falling aside.

Don't black out, don't black out... 

He lazed forward on his hands and knees toward the capsule.

The panel blinked in front of him steadily.

00:00:31

00:00:30

He looked down at Elianor, who lay motionless, one side of his face covered in blood, his handgun a few inches from his slack hand.

Cid wrenched him up by the shoulders, shoving him face first up against the glass of the chamber. He could see Aeris staring them in the face as he pulled back the hammer on the gun held at the base of Elianor's skull.

00:00:24...

00:00:23...

"Do you want," Cid gasped, "the last thing she sees to be you dying? Is that what you want?"

00:00:15...

"She's your own mother for God's sake..."

00:00:09...

"I will kill you and break this machine into tiny pieces before that reaches zero...you fucking enter that code _now_..."

00:00:04...

"_Now!!!_"

00:00:03...

"Cid..." Elianor mumbled.

00:00:02...

"There is no code, Cid..."

00:00:01...

"I'm so sorry, Mother..." he whispered through the glass, tears flowing from his swollen eye.

00:00:00.

The shrill, electronic buzz was deafeningly drowned out by the gun blast. Elianor's body descended like ragdoll. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Cid watched the computers around the machine power down. The red LCD time faded to black. The eerie green backlight ceased. He was alone in absolute darkness.

Adrenaline faded as his wounds took hold of him. He sank to his knees.

In his mind, his demons materialized. He could see his friends weep amidst the wreckage. He could see Crono, mists of blood spraying from his neck, face pale at Sephiroth's feet.

We're...not gonna make it... 

Darkness consumed him. There was no feeling of transcendence or relief. He felt himself draining out of his body like blood from a sickeningly infected wound.

And, amidst the darkness, he swore he could see the face of an angel.

Hang on, Cid... THE END 

Part Twenty-Seven


	28. Tip Of The Iceberg

**ADVERSARY**

_Midgar Beach, 0005 N.C.E._

For once, it was his turn to watch her sleep. He held her, wrapped in one arm, the other softly brushing her hair from her face, the pale night sky shining off her lips as she breathed.

She'd flown him all the way from Nibelheim while he dozed in the spacious rear seat, neither of them having had much sleep since their night of passion at the inn. They'd landed at nightfall, and now Crono estimated about two more hours before sunup, when the guards would change posts around the city. It would be then that they'd have enough of an opening to break for the main city and find the whereabouts of Cloud, as the plan went.

She suspected Cloud would have made his way to the former ShinRa building atop the newly rebuilt plate in an effort to halt the invasion by taking the President hostage. They were positioned behind some rocks on the innermost edge of the beach surrounding the town, having left the helicopter out on a sandbar.

He looked toward the old ShinRa building, where the government had taken seat ever since the reconstruction following the war. He felt a wave of uneasiness pulse through him. He clenched his jaw and tightened his eyelids.

"Mmph…" she murmured, almost causing him to leap upward, throwing her to the sand. "Quit shakin' me…" she whispered with a lazy smirk, quickly shutting her eyes and grabbing on to him tighter.

"Sorry…" he replied, embarrassed at his nervousness. But he could not shake the feeling entirely. It resonated within, filling the uneven spaces in his consciousness, clouding his awareness.

You need to be calm… 

He commanded himself. Preoccupation with any one thing led to foolishness. Forcing his breath to quiet and lengthen, he straightened his back against the rock, still careful not to jostle her, and began to silence his mind.

He may have been heading for a losing battle, but he would not allow himself to be defeated before it began.

His breathing became his sole focus as the troubling vibration receded into the background. Once he'd caught his stray, worrisome thoughts and cast them aside, he truly began to think clearly, inwardly murmuring the battle-mantras of the old swordsmith back home.

If I do encounter my enemy, I will not submit to him. I will stand, a fortress, in his path. Shall he persist, I will destroy him with honor, for being defeatable lies within him, but…

"Being undefeatable lies within me," He whispered, unintentionally. It slammed into him like the very tree that it all began under. Sitting against the rock, the meaning of the saying revealed itself to him. He'd always placed the emphasis on "destroy", and used the rest to simply follow suit.

Conquer thyself and thou shalt conquer all… 

He'd heard that before as well. They were one in the same. A smile played across him. First, one of delirium. He couldn't believe that he was playing with words at such a grave period in his unfortunate life, yet something had "clicked" within him that he couldn't deny. He felt as though he himself was being emptied out. He felt less and less like himself and more and more like everything around him. He felt transparent.

He saw flickering glimpses of the all-too-familiar visions of himself fighting Sephiroth, suffering a felling blow to the neck, crumpling before his captor, letting everyone down, leaving Yuffie with nothing. Only, this time, he did not snap awake in a cold sweat the way he had every time before.

The visions disintegrated. In their place was a strangely compassionate, yet sad glow. He'd felt this aura before by the stasis chambers in the ShinRa Mansion during his enslavement.

You are so much stronger than you realize… 

He heard her whisper in his deepest unconscious mind. It was Aeris, she who he'd heard much of, but never experienced. She was speaking to him. It was indescribably beautiful feeling.

_But you need to listen…Cid is dying…_

His serenity disjointed.

My time has come, but not his, not here…he was trying to save me, you must help… 

"Alright…where are you?" It was a stupid question on his part. He knew the answer, he just couldn't believe that it was back where they started.

In the mansion…you have to send her here…she can save him… 

"No. I'm not leaving her side." He protested, jaw clenching.

Think of her, not you…Cid's been like a father to her… 

"Then I'm going with her."

You already know what you have to do… 

It stopped his reply. She was right. The world was laughing at him again. They'd come so far to this point, fighting to stay together, and now they had obligations on opposite sides of the world.

There is no time…you need to be strong… 

"I understand." He opened his eyes, still beneath the night sky. He turned toward her, lifting her up with his arm.

"Hmm?" She looked at him through half shut eyes, hair dropped in her face, a confused smile. He shook violently on the inside. It would be unbearable to separate from the only thing that had gotten you this far.

"Yuffie." He whispered, hollow. "Listen close…"

* * *

It is time… 

A voice went off in his head. He stopped everything. He couldn't think.

"What the hell…" he murmured, barely audibly. A shaking metal hand made it's way to his eyes, rubbing them furiously.

It's time, Leon… 

"Who are you?" He grimaced, staggering from the electrical pulses he felt flowing through him. It hurt like nothing he'd felt before.

I saved your life, Leon, it's time you did something for me… 

"Oh shit…" He dropped to his knees, sweating, fighting with his whole body. Fighting the impulses blazing into him.

You've known this day would come… 

"No, no way…you can't do this." He whispered.

She is upstairs with her son.

"Please, no…" Tears welled in his eyes.

Kill them. Now.

He tried to scream, tried to knock something over, but he couldn't. He was no longer his own. The base of his head turned toward the stairs. He began walking.

"Night, sweetie." She said, clicking off the stream of light from her son's tired face. The last hours had been the hardest. She had to be strong for her son, assuring him that his Father would be fine, assuring him that everything would be fine, yet she panicked inside all the while. Cloud should have been home by now. He would have returned home first thing. Something was horribly wrong.

The phones were down ever since the Midgar army locked down the city under Martial Law. There was no way of reaching Cid or Lucca or anyone else from her group. She would have gone out to find him on her own, but she would not have left her son alone. She, Leon, and Truss were stuck here until the blockades were lifted.

She sighed as she shut the door to her son's bedroom, leaning against it.

You'd better make it home…you'd just better…

She wouldn't know what to do without him, especially now. She closed her eyes, determined not to break down. Not yet. She would go downstairs and grab a drink. Leon was probably watching Burnt, as usual. Sometimes that show made her laugh quite hard. Cloud always thought it was stupid.

Stop. Stop thinking about it…he can take care of himself…

She stood up as she heard someone coming up the stairs. Then she relaxed. It was just Leon. She held a finger to her lips, signaling him to hush whatever he might say in the hallway next to her sleeping son. She stepped forward to meet him at the top of the stairs.

"Anything on TV?" She whispered, forcing herself to relax. He didn't answer. For a second, she stood face to face with him, slightly puzzled. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

His arm whipping around behind her and snagging her long ponytail was the last thing she'd ever expected. He jerked her head down, wrapping his other arm around her neck, strangling her a few feet from her son. She couldn't make a sound. He stood there motionless, tightening his inhumanly strong grasp. The veins in her face felt close to explosion. He was trying to kill her.

Get a grip…get a grip…

She couldn't pry his arm loose. It was impossible. Clinging to consciousness, she reached down to his knees, grabbing hold and pulling his legs out from under him. Still in a chokehold, she tumbled down the stairs with him, painfully awaiting the split-second release that would come at the bottom.

They hit down with a brutal crash, tearing out the railing. His grip staggered. In an instant, she spun around out of his grasp, straddling him.

You need to end this as quick as possible…

She didn't have any idea why or how, but she couldn't think about it. She rammed her palm into his nose, collapsing the cartilage, and then drew back for the second strike, which would push the fragments into his prefrontal lobes; the two-hit-kill known to all martial artists.

Her heart skipped a beat as she completed the coup de grace, eliciting a rough jerk from his body, knocking her aside. She quickly returned to her feet, stepping back from his limp form.

His life was over. Just like that.

As she stood in shock, the momentary adrenaline faded. Her eyes welled up with tears. She'd just killed a friend.

"Why?" She gasped. Her teeth ground together as she began to cry in frustrated horror at the scene.

"Mom…what happened?" her son stood frozen at the top of the stairs. She faced him after a moment, trying to hide her tears,

"Sweetie, we have to get out of here…"

"What happened to Leon mom? Why'd you hurt him!?" It stung her to the core. She didn't know. She dipped her head. She said the words all parents dread most.

"I don't know, sweetie…" And she could no longer contain the sadness. She knelt over the dead body of an innocent kid who used to hang out at her bar, and who had put his life on the line to help them. Why did he try to kill her? It didn't add up…

She jumped and shouted in shocked rage as the front door burst open.

"Tifa? It's me, Lucca. Get out of the house! Hurry!" The burgundy-haired scientist stepped through the doorway, gun drawn. She paused and lowered the weapon as she took in the scene. Tifa stood over Leon's motionless body, face red with anguish.

"You're too late." She rasped. "I killed him. I don't know what happened, he tried to strangle me and I just killed him…" Lucca frowned. She was too late.

"He was a kid that Hojo turned into a weapon. Sephiroth got his hands on him that night after he and Crono saved me from the prison. He's been following us ever since." Tifa shook her head.

"That can't be…he's too real. He's just a kid."

"He is. But he can't control it when his program executes."

"I can't believe this…" Tifa lamented, sitting down on a chair. Truss slowly moved down the stairs, staring wide-eyed at Leon's body. Lucca lowered her eyebrows.

"I might be able to help him…if he's got biocircuitry in his brain that I probably could take a look at it, see if it could be put back on line. It sounds crazy, but I've done stuff like this before."

"If what you told me was true, that he'd just try to kill us again…"

"Not if I can reroute his synapses…I don't know…I need to think."

"I don't know if it's safe here, Lucca. We should go."

"I distracted most of the guards in this sector. They've been pulled to tend to a massive gas explosion in sector five. Besides, many troops are being pulled to Guardia. Apparently something's been taking out waves of them there. So no guards should be coming around here any time soon." A clear path meant that Tifa might have a chance at finding Cloud.

"I need to go, Lucca. Cloud doesn't even have his sword. He needs me…" It was a drastically dangerous thought.

"You're son will be safe here with me." The inventor said with as much confidence as she could.

"Thank you…Truss, you need to stay here with Lucca. Everything will be alright, okay?" It was such a lie, but what else could she do? She headed upstairs, strapping on her fighting gloves, and hauling Cloud's sword over her shoulder. Lucca stopped her as she ran for the door, pushing keys toward her.

"Take my car. Trust me, it handles."

* * *

Why did she have to fall in love with such an idiot? She cursed as she jerked the rudder of the helicopter, pushing the craft to fly faster. They'd come so far together, and all of a sudden, he broke his promise. He sent her away. He very well could be dead before she returned.

She could only hate him so much for it. She knew Cid's life depended on her, something she felt she owed him, after all that time he spent looking out for her.

Descending down into the Nibelheim Mountains, she honed in on the landing pad by the stark Mansion reactor. She killed her altitude, dropping down steadily.

She did not want to look at the detail inside the mansion. She did not want to remember those unspeakable days. She could not look the corpses of her childhood friends in the face again. She truly hated this house and the man it represented. He'd taken everything from her. He would not take Cid, and he would not take Crono. She would fight him herself.

She scrambled down the stairs, calling the pilot's name, her voice ringing out through the underground chamber as she stumbled through the darkness. At last, she came upon his slumped body, illuminated by a pale green glow before him. It was Aeris' stasis chamber. In her place was a stream of wildly rushing particles of the same green light. She was nearly mesmerized.

You made it, Yuffie…he needs you…

Still fixated upon the hypnotic light, she knelt down to Cid's unconscious body, and opened up her medical hit, dressing his wounds. It felt like an out-of-body experience.

I'm sorry I couldn't help you more…

Yuffie looked up, pausing her application of the tonic to Cid's gunshot.

"What about Crono…what's going to happen to us?"

Just believe in him…nothing can tear you two apart…

It almost made her break down in tears. It was the first positive thing she'd heard in seeming ages.

"Thank you, Aeris."

I'm so sorry for all of this…

"It's not your fault…"

Goodbye…

"Goodbye." Yuffie whispered, wiping her eyes.

"Don't say that. I ain't done yet…"

"Cid!" She shouted, budging him, roughly. He shouted in frustrated pain.

"Shit! Watch it, okay!"

"Cid…" she embraced him. He calmed down, too weak to be angry.

"Is she…is Aeris still in there?" He asked, nearly a whisper. Yuffie shook her head.

"She's free now…"

* * *

As the first ray of sunlight danced over the water, he rose to his feet, breaking his gaze from the sandbar from which she took off in their helicopter.

The way he wished it would not be the way it was, but he knew what he had to do. He would uphold their plan, alone.

The sand crunched softly as he walked toward the city, his heart still buzzing as it had been for the last few hours since she'd gone.

Silence…

The familiar green-hued focus took hold of his mind as he slung the SMG off his chest. Everything became deathly serene.

He was about to throw everything he'd been given right back at them.

**THE END**

Part Twenty-Eight


	29. Hitting The Fan

**ADVERSARY**

_Midgar, Sector 6, 0005 N.C.E._

He slumped down behind the alleyway wall for cover. The assault rifle's clip had run dry. He'd been improvising on empty for the last twenty-four hours he'd spent on the run from his own government, the people he'd helped stay in power in the face of Sephiroth, five years ago.

_How the tables turn…_

He'd been stranded within the city without his sword, with a rifle and thirty rounds, the entire Midgar police force on his tail. His wife and son were God only knew where; the entire Avalanche crew was isolated from one another.

Something was awfully wrong. Sephiroth was supposed to have died in an explosive assassination many months ago, yet he'd undoubtedly left some locus of control within the world through his two sons that he'd forced upon Aeris.

_Aeris…_

There was nothing worse that could have been done to her. Sephiroth could get into anyone and bend them to his needs. No will was strong enough to resist his psychological mastery.

_To think that I would run away from you that night in the street…you've gotten more formidable. You were stupid to think I'd just lie there and die. So arrogant. That will never change…_

He would kill Sephiroth a hundred times if he had to. He owed it to his family, his people, and the people of Guardia whom never had experienced a horror such as Sephiroth before.

_One world not good enough for you, eh? Why not pull two together…_

Sephiroth had to have everything just the way he wanted. Nothing was too far fetched. He relished in the ironic agony he put everyone through, bending them to the opposite ends of their wants and needs. Just like Crono and Yuffie.

_I'll find you guys. I'll get you out of this alive. I promise…_

He felt personally responsible for everything.

_I should have killed him that night in the street…_

He snapped to attention as he heard more footsteps around the corner. He rolled behind the dumpster to his right, pressing against it as if he were trying to become part of it.

"Sir, I think I heard something down here." A footsoldier informed.

"Go check it out." His commander barked from down the street. Cloud heard the young soldier advancing toward him with uneasy feet. It probably was his first taste of real combat.

Predictably, the youth walked right up to the dumpster, putting himself into melee range with Cloud, instead of stepping back and firing a clearing shot; a common early mistake. It was a blessing Cloud needed, and for that he was grateful.

A short, hard blow to the side of the youth's neck dropped him downward where he was quickly pulled up to avoid clattering noisily against the ground. Cloud took his rifle and sidearm, poked his head around the dumpster to make sure no more guards were coming, and then donned the young soldiers uniform.

The kid probably didn't have any idea what he'd gotten himself into, and for that, Cloud spared him.

_Someone has to be the good guy, here…_

Stashing the soldier inside the confines of the dumpster, Cloud strapped his newfound helmet on, and marched toward the entrance to the alleyway. Ever so cautiously, he looked out. The coast was clear. He moved.

* * *

"Hold it right there!" The guards shouted as the man seemed to suddenly appear at the blockade they'd set up. They snapped to attention, drawing their rifles up at the tall, wiry man clad in operations gear with long red spines for hair.

"Drop your weapons! Drop them!" The Sergeant demanded, inching forward, the man's head in his sights. To his surprise, the man shrugged, and did as he was told. He uhhooked the climbing harness, letting fall the SMG, the 9mm pistols, and the Samurai Sword. He stood calmly, looking the sergeant in the face.

"On the ground! Hands behind your head!" They began to pile in, the lead sergeant holstering his gun, pulling handcuffs off his belt. The man hadn't budged. The Sergeant huffed in anger. "I said get down!" He roughly grabbed the man's shoulder, pushing down.

The Sergeant stumbled as the shoulder gave completely under the force, the man spinning gracefully in the direction of the push. Out of the spin came a crescent kick, then another with the opposite leg, each grabbing a soldier by the helmet and sending him clear aside, rifle ajar.

The Sergeant frantically tried to draw his gun, but he felt the man grab him from behind, clamping his elbow in place, and seizing his firing hand, twisting his ring and small fingers back with a sickening noise.

"Aaahhh!!" He groaned, dropping to his knees in involuntary submission, trying to get a glimpse of where his other two men were. He recognized the sound of his own pistol firing twice, eliciting cries of pain from his men.

_Shit!_

He began to panic, struggling, making the pain worse until the thud of his own pistol against his skull sent him into blackness.

* * *

The sound of gunshots caught Cloud's ears, turning him to face their direction.

_Behind that building…the entrance to the seaside district…_

He moved quickly, using his guards uniform as the best possible form of camouflage. He weaved in and out of the short buildings, rifle trained on any entrance points. At last he reached the clearing. Ahead lay the police barricade. He cautiously stepped into the open.

Standing over three downed soldiers was the man he'd least expected.

* * *

"Crono!" He heard a harsh whisper from over his shoulder. Immediately, he stopped consolidating his arsenal, and spun to face the incoming. It was a fully armored and helmeted Midgar footsoldier.

He strafed left and fired three rounds with the Sergeant's pistol. With nearly superhuman skill, the armed soldier jerked aside, the bullets zinging by menacingly, yet harmlessly.

"Hold your damn fire, Crono!" The soldier jerked his open hand out, signaling to "halt", and did not, as Crono expected, return fire. Crono kept the gun on him.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Jesus, I get no fucking slack from you, do I?" The soldier removed his helmet.

_Cloud Strife…_

Crono stared absently for a moment. Cloud rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"I was afraid this was going to result in us fighting yet again…"

"No. I'm here to help." Strife was somewhat reluctant to accept, but he needed it now more than ever.

"How did you get here?"

"Yuffie and I came back for you. We saw you were in trouble."

"You don't have to do this…she needs you."

"I owe you. You could have let me die back at City Hall, but you didn't."

"And Yuffie?"

"She's rescuing Cid as we speak. He fell trying to save Aeris."

"Aeris?" Cloud asked, amazedly, yet earnestly. Crono looked down.

"It might be too late for her. I don't know."

"No. We're not going to give up on her like that." Cloud insisted. Crono shook his head.

"She…told me, Cloud. She said we needed to save this city." The ex-soldier frowned. He knew Crono was right.

"Alright then. I'm headed for the plate. Whatever is behind all of this probably has set up shop up there."

"Most of the Midgar soldiers have been reissued to fight in Guardia."

"That's our plan then. Let me get some of your weapons." They began to consolidate and divide, then stopped. A noise was approaching from up the street. They both jumped to cover as the silver bullet of a car streaked toward them, screeching to a halt between their points of cover. They'd nearly began emptying their automatics into the vehicle when the door opened, revealing Tifa Lockheart, Cloud's sword on her shoulder.

Cloud was speechless, he ran to her, embracing his wife. She stepped back a moment later, slinging his signature weapon off her arm and onto his.

"I really needed this." He told her, smiling for the first time in days. She nodded. She needed to see him in one piece just as badly.

"I guess we're a team now." Crono said, stepping out from his cover toward them. Tifa's eyes widened.

"You're okay." She marveled.

"Yeah. Indestructible." He smiled as they hastily moved into the car, Tifa in the shotgun seat and Crono in the back. Her next concern was Yuffie, her best friend, whom she assumed would have been nearby. "She's alright…she's doing what has to be done." He said, as if pushing himself to accept it. Tifa nodded slowly, understanding. Finished removing the soldier armor, Cloud slid into the driver's seat, gripping the clutch. He turned to his wife.

"As much as I'd like to tell you it's too dangerous for you, I have a sinking feeling you won't listen." He mused.

"You know me so well." She smiled, forcing an upbeat. Crono unfolded his map of the city in the back seat.

"Take a right at city hall and head straight down main. The lift to the plate will be right there." He advised. Cloud raised an eyebrow.

"You weren't thinking of something more circumspect?"

"Fuck them. We'll break through." The redhead smirked.

"That we will." Cloud affirmed, popping out the clutch, rocketing forward.

* * *

From the penthouse of the former ShinRa building, he could see the heavy losses the Midgar army had suffered in the collapse of the castle. Nearly half the invasion force was wiped out in the fall, and the rest were forced to fight the Guardians at close range. Rumor had it that the King had fallen, yet his daughter had taken up the lead of the resistance.

_Incompetence…_

He hated cutting losses; they were unacceptable. The only thing that kept him from rash action was the worse losses the others were suffering. He'd succeeded in isolating them all from one another. Magus was dead. Cloud would only last so long stranded in the city without his blade. Tifa was most likely already dead. Cid fell at the hand of his son Elianor, whom also lost his life in the process, but he felt no sympathy.

_You deserve whatever you get…it was his own lack of skill that caused his loss…_

Crono and his idiot ninja accomplice were no doubt going to stubbornly show themselves, along with whatever other excuse for help they could muster. He would be ready to correct his mistake.

It had taken a lot to realize his oversight, but he finally saw the poor judgment in involving such a bottled-up wild card like Crono, empowering him with the gift of Mako energy, training him as one of his own. It seemed too full of potential to pass up one who had escaped death in the past, one who could spawn magic from his own soul. What a gift! But Crono was too stubborn and tied up in his delusions of honor to ever reach his true prime. After tonight, Sephiroth would wash his hands of all of them.

The plate was rigged with an internal self-destruction system. They would come, he would surround them with soldiers. He would personally kill them, and then send it all crashing down, eliminating Crono and the entire Midgar military in one shot. Cleaning up afterwards would be easy. In one night he would form his own instant revolution, and rise up as the only formidable source of power on the planet.

Guardia, his mistake, would handle itself. It was the necessary hole he needed to rip in his prison to get back to Midgar. After the rains, it would vanish. The worlds would disjoin. It was less that he expected, but all part of the plan, in the end.

_Time is of the essence…_

"Alexander." He called, without turning his head. His eldest son turned to attention.

"Yes, sir?"

"Call all remaining soldiers stationed in Guardia and all Midgar police forces back to this building."

"But wouldn't that, lose everything we…"

"Are you questioning my order?" He asked calmly, with a magnitude of threat behind it. His son stepped back.

"No. No, sir. I'll do that right away." Alex hurried to the desk phone, setting it to dial all members of the military and law enforcement circuit for his announcement. Sephiroth sighed. It was all coming to a head. It would only be a short time now.

The drops of rain fell like angels from the heavens as their wings gently brushed against the window, leaving their feathery streams of water astray. Sephiroth smiled.

_Full circle…_

* * *

The car had been utterly totaled by gunfire by nighttime when they reached the lift up to the plate. They'd cut through a plethora of soldiers larger than any they'd anticipated. Someone must have called them back to hold the ShinRa building.

_Someone's waiting for us…_

Cloud conjectured, uneasily. Optimistically, they'd made it to the lift without suffering any injuries, except the supernatural stress that set in after killing those whom you had sworn to protect. Yet the hero's path often required such a choice of the lesser of two evils; taking down the soldiers was a better alternative than letting innocent civilians be laid to waste.

They were quiet as they entered the lift, the chain link grating closing in front of them. The ride to the top would cost them a single minute of anxiety-laden rest before the real assault began at the steps. A natural leader, Cloud spoke.

"No matter what happens, win or lose, we're all coming out of there alive. I'll see to it that we all do. That's my promise to you guys." Tifa smiled.

"I'll watch out for you guys too." She assured them. They looked to Crono, whom leaned against the wall with a faraway look.

"I'm not letting you guys down this time. No more of that." He stated. He seemed like he'd aged several years since they first met him, no longer a kid. Tifa looked down. Cloud braced him by the shoulder.

"You've always done your best, don't worry about it. Just…let's all stick together, and we'll be alright. Alright?"

"Alright." Tifa agreed.

"Alright." Crono nearly whispered, the pulse within him escalating to a burn.

The lobby doors blew off their hinges, sending guards scrambling for cover. The three of them dashed in, slamming aside two security guards, and heading for the mass of soldiers posed at the other end of the lobby, in front of the elevator doors.

Tifa slid below the firing arcs of several men, tackling their legs out from underneath them, and pinning their weapons down to bring the fight to close range. Slap blocking two rifles aside, she rose to one leg, then swirled herself around three hundred sixty degrees in midair, a ring of downed soldiers forming around her.

Cloud ducked back to avoid getting in her way, and circled around to meet the reinforcements coming out of the elevator. He headed straight for them, blade stretched out behind. Dodging through gunfire, he lunged through them, slashing horizontally. The shots stopped. The men teetered, then fell seconds later. He rushed to his wife's side.

Crono walked calmly through the fray, katana still in its scabbard. He looked to Cloud and Tifa, fighting side by side with incredible synergy.

_They're part of each other…_

He observed. They were strongest together. They belonged together.

_I won't let them risk that…they fought this battle already…_

He headed for the elevator doors, which had been left open and unattended for a matter of seconds. Cloud shouted over his shoulder.

"Hold them open! We'll be right there!" Crono did not respond. He stepped through, taking in the atmosphere of the circular glass shaft which traveled up seventy or so floors. It seemed like a lift directly into the night sky. He looked back to his allies, nearly finished securing the lobby.

_This isn't your problem…you have a son…_

He promised them they'd stick together. He promised Yuffie the same thing. He'd been degenerating ever since he left home.

_I have to make this right…_

His hand found the last button on the 70-floor grid. The doors began to slide closed.

"No! What are you doing?!" Cloud screamed, breaking from the scuffle, rushing the closing doors. Between the sheets of metal, Crono's face stared back blankly at him. "Open the _doors_!!" He shouted again as they snapped shut, trying to slide his fingers into a spot where he could force them open. No avail. The facility was much too secure.

He heard the platform beyond begin to lift. He drew back his blade. He slashed, again and again, tearing and rending chunks of steel, desperately trying to reach it in time. As he tore away the last fragment, kicking it aside, he stepped through, craning his head upward.

The elevator had traveled up fifty feet already. He could not reach it.

"_Shit!_" he roared, slamming yet another piece out of the wall.

"Oh, no…Cloud, he didn't…" Tifa's face paled as she realized what had happened.

"I can't believe this…He thinks he has to prove something…I can't believe I let him do that…"

"We have to get up there!" Tifa pulled him toward the stairs. Automatic weapon chatter spat toward them as they neared the staircase. More soldiers came flooding down from upper floors.

_This isn't happening…_

* * *

He remained fixed at the glass, a looming gargoyle in a large modern chambered office. It was minutes away. He could feel it. He turned to his son.

"Get to the first floor. I want you to keep them busy as long as possible. I have some business to take care of. Take the stairs." Alexander pursed his lips.

"I think they'll be plenty busy, sir."

"You have fifteen minutes until the building goes down. Whether you get out or not is your own choice. Get down there. Now."

"I'll get right on that…" he assured his father, gritting his teeth. He turned and passed through the doors.

_I hope he kills you…_

* * *

The lights of the Midgar skyline were now visible through the helicopter windshield. Her refugee resting in the backseat, she pushed the chopper clear into the red.

_Come on… _

It would be about fifteen minutes before she reached the former ShinRa building. She needed to be there sooner.

_You promised we'd be together…_

_Just be alive when I get there…_

**THE END**

Part Twenty-Nine


	30. Fool In The Rain, Revisited

**ADVERSARY**

_Midgar, Sector 7, 0005 N.C.E._

The drops of rain fell like angels from the heavens as their wings gently brushed against the window, leaving their feathery streams of water astray. The sky was pouring down around him in three dimensions, separated from him only by a thin layer of cylindrical glass that extended up hundreds of feet to the spot where fate had more or less guided him to. He was isolated from everything and everyone; on the outside looking in.

The vibration within would not cease. It ate at his composure. He was painfully slowly being carried toward the fight of his life, and he could not, for the life of him, attain steadiness.

Of all the times to lose your cool… 

He wanted to pass it off as a fluke, or just some pent up anxiety, but he knew the real reason. She was still out there. She was out there waiting for him. She was his one remaining worldly attachment that ate away at him for the decision he'd made.

He'd died and survived too many times at this point. Normal life was beyond his reach. He was too far gone from anyone, yet she remained. Despite the enormous sacrifice he was determined to make to right his wrongs, he would still leave her with nothing but a broken promise. There was no way out of it. It was all just too much. He began to shut down.

By the time the elevator sluggishly jerked to a halt, rumbling like an ominous dirge, he was completely hollow. He would walk through the doors without batting an eye. He would become a machine; immune, invincible, the only way one could.

He would be dead before it began.

The doors slid open, revealing the huge penthouse office adorned with polished marble, gilded soft-light lamps mounted into the pillars that broke up the large plate-glass windows that ran through the center of each wall. A red velvet carpet cut through the center of the room, an open vein leading up to the heart, the source of the room at the other end.

On a raised platform was a great pinewood desk before a clear picture window. In front of the desk loomed darkness. Seven feet of silver haired, Nodachi-weilding darkness. He seemed to blend in with the pouring streams of rain that rattled against the window in sheets.

The red-haired warrior advanced slowly, respectfully. Out of the corner of his eye he could see multiple reflections of himself in the multidimensional marble surfaces. Melding images of his loose black and white fighting attire danced across the walls. His sword remained sheathed, blade up, at his side.

He calmly stepped within twenty feet of the man opposite him, then stopped, unwavering in his blank eye contact. Sephiroth's face broke into a smile.

"Formality. Nice touch."

Crono stared back, motionless. He chuckled.

"You know, I'm proud of you, Crono. You've finally realized it." Sephiroth spoke in a far-off voice, observing. "You've finally found the answer to what's been killing you this whole time."

No response.

"You've realized what you are. A man of no-mind; a man who has embraced death as a lover. You didn't even think about it, did you?" A moment passed. They stared each other down atop the dying city. Crono's eyes pulsed, he breathed.

"Samurai." Crono whispered. Sephiroth grinned from ear to ear.

"Yes. And do we know what they do best?" He slid the Masamune into view, out of the depths of his black leather coat. Crono drew, nodding slowly. Lightning flashed.

"They die."

Like a swirl of concealing shadow, Sephiroth's coat flared out as he slashed, bearing down against Crono's guard, both hands driving the great Masamune. The sound of the blades cracking together shrieked out over the thunder, echoing off the cold, unfeeling walls. Crono slid a few inches back, digging his heels into the carpet, pushing out of the deadlock. He swayed back from a roundhouse kick, stepping around it as it came down, bending his knees low.

He launched into the air, leaning straight back until he was parallel to the ground, spinning in a corkscrew, whipping both legs into his adversary. He touched down and sprung aside, spinning his blade back to guard with a shout. Sephiroth stared back, amazed.

"That's something right there." He grinned. Crono hopped from foot to foot, ready to jump back in, deaf to his words. Again, Sephiroth spun with a swooping motion. Crono saw it from a mile away. He readied himself to roll with the crushing blow. It never came.

Sephiroth's wide feint became a jab, piercing his opponent's ribs with the steel hilt of the greatsword. The air exploded from Crono's lungs, doubling him over. Not wasting a second, Sephiroth kicked him viciously in the face, wound back, and cut down.

Crono rolled to the floor with a deep slash between his shoulder blades. His first mistake nearly cost him his life.

_Don't think…just don't…_

He wound his legs over his head, the circular force hurling him upward with a clearing slash. Sephiroth slipped out of range as Crono took to his feet. A considerable distance between them, the long Masamune took control, thrusting and slicing in short arcs, forcing the Samurai back, awkwardly up the stairs, yet unable to utilize an uphill advantage without getting in for the clinch.

He was blind to the desk behind him until he bumped into it, throwing himself off balance. Staggering not to fall prone, he held his katana diagonally across his body, desperately trying to hold off the coming advance. He could not.

His speed and agility were rendered irrelevant as he crumpled back under the hurricane assault that pinned him to the desk, the Masamune held inches from his face by his own blade. He couldn't muster any power from this position. He'd dropped the ball once, and Sephiroth had run with it. The great black edge pressed closer to his throat.

_This happened before…city hall…_

Unable to rake out Sephiroth's legs like Cloud's, he brought his feet straight up, extended his legs, and pulled them together full force. His booted heels slammed together at opposite ends of Sephiroth's temples.

_Got you…_

Sephiroth staggered. Speed regained control. Crono snaked out of the pin that pressed him down, and jumped back onto the surface of the desk on one foot, kicking hard with the other, then snapping the same kick back to hit again in reverse. His dazed enemy plummeted down to the steps. Crono rebalanced and jumped high off the desk, sword bent back over his head.

He hung there, suspended over his prone enemy, ready to slice him in half. Time moved achingly slow in moments like this. Sephiroth stared him straight in the eye. He did not move to defend himself. Crono dropped closer, closer still, until…

Inches away from a fatal blow, Crono was ripped backward by a horrific force that blasted forth from Sephiroth's calmly outstretched hand. Rays of green and iridescent blue engulfed him, reversing his gravity with the impact of a car crash, and sending him sailing in the opposite direction. He felt like he'd hit a cement wall coming at him just as fast as he fell.

His mind a sheet of white, he spiraled over the desk toward the picture window. His body pushed through the plate glass like thick water, splintering broken shards into his arms, legs, torso. He was met with a sheet of chilling rain as he kept falling upward from the blast. Finally he peaked his ascent, the white numbness fading in his eyes.

The air left his lungs as his chest collided with the banister railing that fenced in the balcony and helipad area outside the President's Office. He gasped, but no breath came, as he slumped and slipped over the railing, taking in the city skyline hundreds of stories below the skyscraper and the plate.

He could feel the city. He felt as if he could fall into it safely, become it. It pulsed and vibrated, just as he did.

His hand caught the railing inadvertently as his body hit the side with a grim thump. He winced, the delirium he'd experienced on the beach returning to him in a rush, air sharply piercing his lungs. He hung there, an incongruous smile cracking on his void face. He understood.

He sheathed his dangling katana, untying the scabbard from his belt, and sticking it over the railing, tossing his grip to the other side of it, pulling himself up on the makeshift winch, stumbling back over the railing, rain permeating his clothes, soaking into him. The rain became warm, cleansing.

The door to the balcony slammed open as Sephiroth stormed out, Masamune brandished. His face no longer held sarcasm or humor.

"You don't get it, Crono. You can't win. You might have escaped death on technicalities, but I can do it regardless. I cannot be defeated. I am an immortal, an ancient."

Crono held his sheathed sword calmly. Sephiroth stormed toward him and the edge.

"You were supposed to side with me. We conquered death. We could have conquered everything. Isn't that what you believe, idiot? You're a waste. You can't even use your own power." He lifted the Masamune. "Draw your sword." He demanded flatly. "This is over. Now." Crono swayed a little in the breeze. Sephiroth's eyes narrowed.

_You're a temporary setback…You will not escape death this time…_

He cleaved downward.

Braced against the rail, Crono blocked the slash, holding both ends of his sheathed blade. The blow split clear through the scabbard, sending a strong enough force through to break the casing on the other side.

Crono slid off the end of the scabbard, jamming it over the tip of the Masamune which was pressed against his katana. He swayed to the side, holding the Masamune down. His sword arm looped over his Sephiroth's blade. He stepped forward, body behind the thrust.

The sound of suction gave as the katana cleared through Sephiroth's solar plexus and back, deep to the hilt. Crono released the blade. Sephiroth's eyes dimmed, mouth agape.

"That was…" He whispered, stepping back shakily. Crono smiled, hands at his sides, moving with the breeze. Sephiroth, staggering, slammed the Masamune against the ground. The end of the scabbard that had been wedged on broke into pieces. He turned to face his adversary.

"…so fucking stupid of you…" He hissed, slashing upward in a venomous rage that carried him up to his feet and then down, exhausted to his knees, facing the other way. The Masamune clattered to the ground between them.

On hands and knees Sephiroth began to drag himself, life rushing out of him. He needed to turn around. He needed to see Crono die. He needed to know he'd won. He collapsed on his side, unable to move.

_I will escape this…_

_I am eternal…_

_I cannot die…_

His shaking hands moved to the handle of Crono's blade, wrenching it, pulling it with the last of his might. It would not move.

_No…I will overcome this…_

He could remove it. He could still escape the wound. He just needed to remove it. He screamed out, bucking upward, tearing at it. His eyes opened at the climax of the agony.

He could see, surrounded in light, an angel's face. With a sad smile, she held the blade into him.

Parallel to the ground, blade running through him, he struggled to stay up.

"I gave you another chance at the life I took. I made it up to you! You can't do this…"

A tear formed in her eye as she held the blade in place. Eyes wide in horror, he opened his mouth to curse her, destroy her. His face began to lock up as he slid, in agonizing grotesque, down the length of the blade into cold blackness.

* * *

They'd left a sea of bodies in their wake. Young enlistees, men with families, all members of the state they were trying to defend. It was madness.

He braced against the wall, catching his breath. She joined him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"How much more to go?"

"Thirty floors. We got most of them though…there can't be too many more…" He gasped.

"We have to get there…" She affirmed, reluctantly. "We have to help him." He nodded to her. He knew.

Gathering their wits, they started up the stairs. They nearly jumped when the voice of the enemy rang out over the loudspeaker.

"Get out of the building." It was a young, sinister voice.

"Who's that, Cloud?" He didn't know. He'd never met its embodiment before.

"Who are you?" He demanded, standing to tactical attention.

"It doesn't matter. This building is going to explode in minutes. Get out while you can, there's a helicopter flying in for you" They paused, looking at each other. Cloud grimaced.

"Where is Crono?"

"It's not important at this point. It will all be over in a few minutes. Whether or not you leave is your choice. Just remember that you have a son. You owe him something." The voice crackled, solemnly. A giveaway. It was one of Sephiroth's children. Cloud looked down.

"He's right, Cloud…"

_This is not fair…_

"Crono made his own decision, crazy at it was…"

_No…not his fight…_

"Truss needs us…our son needs us." She forced him to look at her. Red alarms began to sound.

Bitterly, Cloud tore himself away from the upward staircase. They began to sprint.

* * *

She could see him, engulfed in the bright spotlight, spackled by torrential rains. He was standing upright, leaning slightly against the railing, empty handed. She felt her heart skip.

_God…you stayed alive for me…_

"Cid…I need you to hold this steady, alright?" She could not contain her anxiety. The pilot sat up, taking the controls of the helicopter, minding his wounds. She messily readied a winch and a zipline, ready to drop down to the roof. She clipped her harness into place. Cid looked at her.

"Be careful kid, alright?" She smiled. Like a child.

"He made it, Cid…it's okay. It's over…" Lost in euphoric anxiousness, she jumped downward to the roof, letting the cable slack as she fell, unclipping herself.

He was there. Hands behind him loosely against the rail, one side of his face turned away, standing up gently, a dim smile on his face.

"I never stopped believing…" She shouted, running to him, fighting the rain. "Never…" She rushed into him, squeezing him around the chest, feeling the warmth amongst the freezing cold. He gently returned her embrace, lowering his head, his lips to her ear.

"I love you." He whispered. The train station. He remembered. She squeezed harder.

"I love you, too. Just…don't do that ever, ever again, okay? Please." She started to cry, the tension finally breaking. "I can't take losing you." She nearly pushed her self through him.

"Yuffie…" He whispered. She sniffed.

"Yeah?" He said nothing. She held on, then blinked. Something was in her eye. It was wet, but not water. It was hot. It burned. She pulled back, rubbing her eye furiously in the confusion.

He looked back at her, face paling, sadness in his eyes. The left side of his neck he'd turned away was split cleanly open. Blood had covered his neck, back, and was now pouring down his chest and left arm. It had spilled into her hair. She froze inside.

"No…" She whispered. His face trembled.

"I'm so sorry for all of this…" She couldn't hear him. She could only see blood. His blood. He was dying. He was going to leave her.

Alone.

"You promised me…" She sobbed, stepping back. She felt like she was going to implode. Her head pounded. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. She turned away from him, his garbled words swimming though sheets of rain and coming out as faint echoes in her mind. She saw the body of Sephiroth. Flat on it's back by the window, a samurai katana stained with blood at its side.

Her numb hands gripped the blade. She held it up, the helicopter spotlight now shining directly on her.

_You ruined everything…_

She sliced clean through the body of the enemy. Again. Again. She screamed for all she was worth. Her world was ending.

* * *

He watched the security feeds as they ran. All one hundred and thirty of them. Multiple cameras on seventy floors. Each one a scramble of soldiers and workers. Each one hanging onto their lives by a thread. So feeble. So fleeting.

Life mattered not. He was a freak accident byproduct of an evil man, through which he realized that life mattered not. It was all just death and sorrow. Attachments and loss. He could have been great. A great leader, a great son. He could have made his father proud, made the world shake. He never did. It was all pointless destruction.

He watched the lobby monitor painstakingly. It was littered with Midgar guards whom had fallen holding back Cloud, Tifa, and Crono. Crono who was upstairs maybe or maybe not fighting his father.

_Come on…get out…_

Cloud and Tifa Srife bolted out the lobby doors, holding on to each other for dear life. They headed for the lift off the plate. They were safe. The enemies were safe. His mother's friends were safe.

_Dad…you were a fucking lunatic…_

He concluded, pouring himself a glass of wine, spinning around in the control room chair. The red digital clock on the wall dropped into the single digits.

_Sorry about all this, mom…you too, bro…_

He smiled. The seconds dropped. 5. 4. 3. 2…

He raised his glass to the face of the clock in respect.

"Cheers."

* * *

In the midst of her rage she could not hear the alarm, nor the signals of the base charge detonation. She could only feel like snap back into reality as she was thrown backwards from her feet, tumbling across the rooftop as it shook. The white spotlight blinded her. It looked like a stream of angels.

_Nothing can tear you two apart…_

She heard the whisper in her mind. Her vision cleared. She could hear someone screaming over a loudspeaker from above. She could feel herself crawling blind through the water. She was drowning.

She reached out. She swore she could feel him. A second blast lifted her off the ground. The spotlight jostled off focus. The helicopter pulled up slightly.

She landed, spitting out water as she rolled from the blast in the building below her. She stopped rolling, opening her eyes. He lay next to her, eyes shut, mouth hanging slightly open. The rain had washed away a great deal of the stain, yet the wound still flowed. She felt herself sink. She leaned forward, kissing him, tasting blood, tears raging out of her eyes. He moved, pushing her face back weakly.

"Go…get out of here…" She shook her head slowly. "Please…not for me. Don't…" He gasped. She held a finger to his lips.

"Shhh." She whispered in his ear. "You promised."

He was silent. She was right.

The building jerked. The floor below them collapsed. They began to slide toward the railing, grasping each other. Windows buckled. Supports blew. The top of the building slowly crumbled outward in the blaze. They could feel themselves roll off the railside. Beyond the realm of each other's eyes was a vast city, hundreds of stories below them.

She felt herself begin to pulse within. Her chest pressed against his, she could felt it inside him as well. Upside down, spinning in three hundred sixty degrees, she could feel it in the city, the planet as well. Everything was singing and screaming at the top of its voice. Colors, sounds, visions, beautiful and tragically sad surrounded them.

They would never have a family. They would never grow old together. Cloud would never forgive himself for letting Crono slip through the doors. Tifa and Lucca would forever be heartbroken over the loss of her best friends. Leon would live out the rest of his life in a confused sorrow over what became of him. Cid would never escape the nightmares of being inches away from them on the rooftop, but unable to pull them back. There would be no end to the tears that would be tasted.

Yet Cloud and Tifa would raise their son as best they could. Magus and Aeris would rest in peace. The survivors would all support each other in one form or another. They would bring the city together once again. The worlds would revert. Somehow, life would go on, an eternal mix of the beautiful and the tragic. Somehow, it would be okay.

They fell, eyes locked, for what seemed forever. It didn't matter. They couldn't feel their bodies anymore, falling like angels from the heavens, splashing against the street as raindrops, leaving their feathery streams of water astray.

They were perfect.

**THE END**

Part Thirty: Finale


	31. Author's Commentary

**ADVERSARY: COMMENTARY**

Okay, this is corny but I have a stupid sense of humor and/or reality, so, whatever. I feel that there needs to be some clarifications and appendices to this big-ass-monster of a fanfic that's taken me FOUR AND A HALF YEARS to finish.

Yeah, that's correct. I started this bitch in April of 2000, back when I was a wee 'lil high school freshman, brand new to the world of Fanfiction. There's probably no excuse for this thing to have taken a decent writer more than a year or year and a half at most, but I'm a lazy fucker, so there.

But it's not that simple. There's a story behind this story that you may or may not find amusing. If you hate me for it, we'll totally set up a martial arts match for which I may or may not arrive in person. Whether you like it or not you're going to hear it. Bioch.

I've always wanted to be a writer without being a writer. WTF, you say? Well, I can't and will never be able to bring myself to write a real full-length book. I hate it. It's so antiquated IMHO. However, I still love to read books, and write things, but just not _long stories and/or books._ Comprende? This led me to envision stories about stupid things like action figure battles and all that other crap that productive young kids think up. Back in elementary school, when girls were icky, I picked up Secret of Mana and Chrono Trigger for the SNES. I love those games like I now love Rosario Dawson.

So I made up stories about them, wrote them down. I think my first game story was a mega man X game. And seriously, you may be like "okay, you wrote fanfiction. So what?", but it wasn't like that at all. I totally thought to do this shit on my own. I was writing Mega Man X stories BEFORE Al Gore invented the internet and Fanfiction. I was fucking oldskool.

Nevertheless, these little adages into X and Zero's totally hardcore adventures in whoopassville never lasted more than four notebook pages. I became characterized by never finishing anything that was not assigned to me through school. Fast forward to eighth grade. I broke my leg and thus spent an entire summer on the internet. Surely enough I came across  and was like "holy crap there are wacko's out there just like me who write stories about videogames!" I messed around for a year with ideas. I never had something that went more than five pages.

Ninth grade. I had an idea. I would cure my inability to write the even simplest thing by writing the BIGGEST MOST FUCKING GREAT FANFIC EVER! I chewed my English partner's ear off daily about it. It would be a mashup of FF7, CT, and FF6(3). I was so psyched.

I then found out what I wanted to do was called a Crossover. In the world of Fanfiction, people hate you for writing these. You needed the best reason in the world to mix up games, unless, of course, you were writing a Lemon in which Tekken's Jin Kazama totally bangs Tifa Lockheart, entitled "Karate Fighters do it with their gloves on". Those are acceptable.

I spent the next three months in my room writing. Finding no way to thread FF6 into the story, I quickly narrowed it down to just FF7 and CT. I called it Adversary, although now I'm not sure why I did that. I wrote like, ten chapters in those months.

It was then that I returned to my first love: music. I joined a band, playing drums. We called ourselves "Mastering The Hook" after a few gutterballs at the bowling alley. We rocked out on Blink 182 and Green Day covers, but soon, our Freshman minds clashed, and we fought for creative control. Angered, I left the band. With nothing to occupy my time, I began writing again, after my three-month stint in the band.

Sophomore year, 2002. The band reforms. We are now sorry, and promise not to fight like that any more. We write lots of music. We play local shows. We meet lots of cool people/groupies (no, groupies do not classify as people). My writing goes down the toilet.

From that point until graduation, I begrudgingly write one chapter per several months, determined not to give up on an old dream. I bring the fic up to 25 chapters, and do not write any more for ONE YEAR.

Junior year, 2003. Our band is now known around the school. We are the coolest motherfuckers in town. People actually walked into school with boomboxes playing our music. We were so touched. I was living the best year of my life. Writing was nowhere in sight.

Senior year. This year. I am suddenly bandless. We stay together in spirit, but the other two bad brothers in my band go off to college, leaving me, the youngster, still in my last year of high school. Unable to ride the ghost of our popularity, I begin to come to terms with my own need to create. I listen to a Saul Williams cd. I am breathless. I, the rock star, fall in love with Slam/Def Poetry and Hip-Hop.

I write like a fiend. I Slam the hell out of everything. Every school project I encounter I transform into an oratory for my verbal slickness. The sun shines. I have found my place in the writing world.

Until the nagging ghost of unfinished business rears itself in the back of my mind. I begin to run out of gas. I cannot think clearly. I feel as if I am multitasking and leaving things undone. I know what it is. I just don't want to face it. I stop writing. I take a hiatus from the band. I degenerate into a Soul Calibur 2 addict. All is forever lost. And then.

July, 2004. Interim between high school and college. I get off my ass, and get a job. I realize that if I do not finish what I have spent so many years on, I will die in flaming gooey stuff, most likely. Or be a waiter for the rest of my life (which would be cool, but still). I write, then stop, and then LAST SUNDAY I begin writing like a crack addict until it is done. Speaking to you live from my computer at 5:58 PM on Saturday, December 18, 2004, I have just finished my story. It's over. I am finally free. So. Time for more pointless detail.

Q: What's with the variances in the expository style? It's like different people wrote this.

A: I wrote it over four and half years. My writing has changed many times.

Q: Why do I occasionally find a modern song title mixed in with the text?

A: I originally thought it would be SUPER BAD ASS if I put songs in with the scenes to heighten the mood. I then realized I was using really obscure music, so took most of it out. Some things missed my hawk eyes. Anyway, here were some more notable songs on the "soundtrack."

Opening scene/Angsty Crono – Deftones, Change In the House of Flies

Sephiroth Escapes Limbo – Tool, The Grudge

Crono and Yuffie get aquainted – Deftones, Around The Fur

Cloud and Crono's pointless fistfight – Godsmack, Whatever

Yuffie poisoning Crono – The Crystal Method, Murder

Crono vs Chi – Lunatic Calm, Leave you far behind

Crono vs Cloud at City Hall – Ludacris, Get the Fuck Back

Crono vs Sephiroth – Juno Reactor, Samurai

The End Scene – System of a down, streamline

That's pretty much all I remember. Other ones were not important or bad or forgotten. If you want to know what song inspired a scene that was not listed here, feel free to rack my small brain.

Q: You offended my fanatic obsession with such and such a character. That never would have happened.

A: OKAY. This is a hard one. First of all, I designed this fic to really take the hero characters for a dark, stormy turn in their lives, and make them out to be more realistic people, with gaping flaws like we all have. If a character acts OOC, it's probably because I wanted to show that character's less rosy, less heroic side. Nobody's perfect. Except Taki from Soul Calibur. And her breasts. Mmm. STFU if you disagree.

Q: I suppose I get that. But your Aeris and Sephiroth pairing is UNACCEPTABLE.

A: Yes. I agree. I thought it would be some kind of paradoxical, cool union of opposites, but it came out as stupid and unbelievable. I have yet to see this pairing work, but I believe it could, in some alternate reality. It would require pages of miracles and reversals and such to build chemistry between them. I did it in about five paragraphs. Oh well. You live and learn.

Q: Speaking of Sephiroth, WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE TRYING TO DO! WHAT WAS HIS PLAN?

A: Yeah, I apologize. First of all, let me advise all the writers out there to OUTLINE things. This way they add up at the end, and you spend your end chapters blowing shit up instead of frantically tying up loose ends. Now, in a nutshell, Sephiroth's plan.

Sephiroth is put in Limbo after fucking up the Planet. He then rips a hole in the universe, flies up to heaven, gets Aeris for NO GOOD REASON, and falls with her into the Negative Energy Plane, where (if you play D20 tabletop you know that) time passes slowly. So he porks her and has two sons which serve minimal importance to the plot except one is kind of funny and the other is a total pussy.

He then gets bored in the Shadow Plane, and rips (how does he do this!) a hole in the universe. The only way to get back to Midgar, is on top of Guardia. This is so he can fight Crono at the end, because I always thought that them fighting would be so cool. He then makes a deal with the super OOC King of Guardia to capture Crono in turn for a piece of land. He will make an empire or some shit on this land. I did not think that far ahead.

The party tries to blow Sephiroth up. They think they succeed but they FAIL. Sephiroth then captures Yuffie, turns her into an assassin thing, and has her totally seduce Crono, poisoning him (making her think she kills him) then wiping their minds clean for Mako Treatment. I had just seen the Bourne Identity (which is also bad fucking ass, don't you disagree with me) so a lot of that is visible in these scenes. They hang out and commit crimes for Sephiroth. He locks Aeris in a stasis tube because she suddenly returns to character and realizes she actually hates him.

With guardia, Yuffie, and Crono under his control, he kills the president of Midgar and has his son shapeshift into a presidential look-alike. He tries to kill the Strife family, but fails. Cloud frees Crono. Crono escapes, now hooked on Mako, and goes back to the mansion, and other things happen.

NOW Sephiroth starts a war between Guardia and Midgar, using his son and his Guardia influence to sway aggression mutually. They fight. He plans to rise above the wreckage and become the king of both worlds. Things don't work out so well for him. Did that explain everything?

Q: Why does Crono kick more than he slashes ? Did you even play CT?

A: Yes. The first year it came out. And kicking things is bad ass, so just shut up, fanboy.

Q: Leon was so pointless.

A: Yes, but he was fun to write. Every good story has a pointless surprise turncoat. Read some Dan Brown if you disagree.

Q: There are many mistakes in your expository.

A: I did not revise or edit a single chapter. Everything you read is straight off my copy of Word 2000, like a virgin, or something.

Q: Why such a sad ending?

A: If you must know, I changed the end to what it is now at the last minute, before I wrote it. I had planned for Crono and Yuffie to get airlifted to safety, and kiss passionately in the sky, or something. Everything would have returned to being hunky-dory and the last scene was probably going to be Crono introducing Yuffie to his mother. Looking back, I'm glad I chose the ending I chose.

It's a matter of taste for me. The story is dark. The characters are much darker and flawed (sometimes too out of character, but hey, we live and learn) and frankly, a Happily Ever After ending would have just been unsatisfying for me. I believed their sacrifice/death really showed the essence of being a hero in a realistic situation, and the sad truth of what often happens to people in their places.

Q: Right, okay, its artsy, I get it. But what happens at the end? It's really cryptic.

A: You figure it out. It just came out that way. It's something about them realizing the totality of everything and the fact that their bond surpassed their own lives. They accept death, and no longer try to fight it. Something along those lines. Interpret it however you like.

So, after all this time, I'm proud to say I have finished my first independent work, which, ironically, is really long. I don't like it. I would change much of it, but I firmly decided to keep it as a first draft, something to always learn from, but I am finally satisfied with it. I can sleep easier at night. I can move on to better things.

Yes, I am done with fanfiction. I have written my requiem from this strange and creative world where thousands write just for the sake of writing. It was my birthplace as a real author, and I shall always honor it, but I gots to move on, yo.

I have my poems, songs, two bands, screenplays, art, and other things which are writing without writing too much to satisfy my writing needs.

My band, Mastering the Hook has put together a demo. It rocks. Check it out at  to see me some time on television somewhere. Maybe getting arrested for mail fraud or something, but I guarantee you'll see me at least once, for one reason or another.

I may continue my Le Cliché de RPG list at some point. I have another one half-done. I've forced myself to admit that many of them weren't that funny, but your sense of humor always evolves, and all you can do is move on.

And that's essentially what this stupid story has taught me. It's not going to be perfect, but it will teach you something about yourself, and you'll feel an odd sense of accomplishment afterward. So use your talents, whatever they might be, because if you don't, you will wake up one day and be like "shit, I wasted my life and I suck." I think that's basically it.

Thank you so much for your support and emails. Feel free to talk to me anytime. I welcome it. XStreetSamuraiX

Triad.


End file.
